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BARTH'QMLEY FF.OM THE RECTORY GATE 








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>• 


BARTHOMLEY 


IN LETTERS 

FROM A FORMER RECTOR 

TO HIS ELDEST SON. 


BY 


THE REV. EDWARD HINCHLIFFE, 

RECTOR OF MUCKLESTONE, 

AND DOMESTIC CHAPLAIN TO THE EARL OF LISBURNE. 



LONDON: 


LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS. 
FRED. CREWE: NEWCASTLE-UNDER-LYME. 





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TO HER 


WHOSE MEEK AND QUIET SPIRIT, 


HALLOWED BY UNOSTENTATIOUS PIETY, 


WHOSE GUILELESS AND DISCREETFUL MIND 


HAVE BRIGHTENED THE PATH 


AND SOOTHED THE SORROWS OF 


A GRATEFUL HUSBAND, 


TO MARY, 


HIS BELOVED WIFE, 


THIS LITTLE WORK 


IS 


AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 


































'' 







































































CONTENTS. 


LETTER I. 

PLAN AND DESIGN OF THE WORK. 

LETTER IX. 

BOUNDARIES OF THE PARISH-DOMESDAY SURVEY-WILLIAM 

THE CONQUEROR—HUGH LUPUS. 

LETTER III. 

WILLIAM DE MALBEDENG-HUGH MALBANK-WILLIAM MAL- 

BANK—FAMILY OF PRAERS. 

LETTER IV. 

SIR ROBERT FULLESHURST—JAMES LORD AUDREY, AND HIS 
ESQUIRES-EDWARD THE BLACK PRINCE—THE BATTLE OF POI¬ 
TIERS—GENEROSITY OF JAMES LORD AUDLEY-JAMES TOUCHET 

LORD AUDLEY-MUCKLE STONE STEEPLE-QUEEN MARGARET- 

W. SKELHORN. 


LETTER Y. 

MARRIAGE OF SIR ROBERT FULLESHURST AND ELIZABETH 
PRAERS—BARTHOMLEY SOLD TO SIR CHRISTOPHER HATTON, AND 
BY HIS REPRESENTATIVES TO SIR RANULPHE CREWE. 

LETTER YI. 

LEGEND OF ST. BETTELIN. 

LETTER VII. 


THE CHURCH AND MONUMENTS. 



VI 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER VIII. 

THE STEEPLE — BELFRY RHYMES — THE BELLS CURFEW 

GUTTIT TUESDAY-MASSACRE—LIST OF RECTORS-ELCOCKE 

ZACHARY CAWDREY—WALTER OFFLEY—CHARLES CREWE. 

LETTER IX. 

MEMOIR OF BISHOP HINCHLIFFE—CANALETTI. 

LETTER X. 

MEMOIR OF CAPTAIN JOHN BOYER, R.N.-ADMIRAL HOARE- 

HIGGINS THE MURDERER-GEORGE BOYER-JOHN BOYER-HENRY 

BOVER-WILLIAM BOYER-CAPTAN PETER BOVER, R.N.-MUTINY 

OF THE NORE-MARIA BOYER-MR. AND MRS. DICCONSON-MRS. 

HINCHLIFFE-MARQUIS OF WESTMINSTER-THE SALT BOX- 

WILLIAM GIFFARD. 


LETTER XI. 

CLERKS OF BARTHOMLEY : ROBERT BARRATT-THOMAS SMITH- 

MATTHEW ASTBURY—ROBERT CORKE. CHURCHWARDENS: ROBERT 

LATHAM-THOMAS BROOME, DR. WILLIAM BROOME.-OAKHAN- 

GER HALL-TABLES OF BENEFACTIONS, GIFTS, ETC.-GIBSONS- 

DANIEL STRINGER-JOSEPH AND MATTY SMITH-WILLIAM BRAD¬ 
SHAW-JOHN DARLINGTON-RICHARD LATHAM-CORONATION FES¬ 

TIVITY. 

LETTER XII. 

SCENERY—CHURCHYARD—BOURNE’S EPITAPH—RECTORY—PUB¬ 
LIC HOUSES-MR. GEORGE AND MRS. BEBBINGTON-WHITE LIONS 

—PRODUCTS—MR. E. H. MARTIN—MESSRS. WHITBY AND G. GARRATT 

-MARL AND MARLERS-PEAT MOSSES-OAK TRUNKS-CELT 

-CHEESE—IMPROVEMENTS IN MACHINERY-SABBATH CHEESE¬ 
MAKING—REY. J. ARMITSTEAD—MARQUIS OF CIIOLMONDELEY- 

JOHN TOLLEMACHE, ESQ.-MRS. TOMKINSON-REV. F. STORR- 

J. F. FRANCE, ESQ.—EDWARD LLOYD, ESQ.-SUPPING — SOCIAL 

AND DOMESTIC LIFE—MODERN AND ANCIENT WEDDING—GENERAL 


CONTENTS. 


Vll 


INTERCOURSE — COSTUMES—SCHOOL FESTIVAL — EVIL HABITS— 
DRUNKENNESS—SITTING UP—SOCIAL REMEDY. 

LETTER XIII. 

CUSTOMS : CHRISTMAS PLAYS—SOULING—BARTHOMLEY RACES— 

SAMUEL WHITTAKER-CREWE SONG-LIFTING. GAMES : PRISON- 

BARS-TIPCAT. WAKES I BENEFIT CLUBS. SUPERSTITION : BO¬ 
GARTS-WARNINGS-LICHGATES. NATURAL HISTORY: ROUGH AND 

REEVE—SWALLOWS—REDSTARTS—CROSS BILLS. 

LETTER XIV. 

BALTERLEY-CHARITY SCHOOL-BALTERLEY BROOK-SAMUEL 

AND MARY WOOD’S HOUSE—SAMUEL LIGHTFOOT-THOMAS PEN- 

LINGTON. 


LETTER XV. 

BALTERLEY GREEN-HALL-O-WOOD-PEDIGREE OF WOOD OF 

PORTHILL-KELSALLS-SMITH CHILD, ESQ., M.P.-TAITS-MR. S. 

PEAKE MR. GOODFELLOW MRS. KELSALL BALTERLEY HALL 

FAMILY OF THICKNESSES, AND PEDIGREE OF THE AUDREYS, 

VERDONS, BLOUNTS, AND THICKENS-PHILIP THICKNESSE-DR. 

DODD-RALPH THICKNESSE, M.D.-JOHN CREWE-THOMAS TWEM- 

LOW-FRANCIS TWEMLOW, TESTIMONIAL TO-FAMILY OF TWEM- 

LOW-BETLEY HALL-GEORGE TOLLET, 1718 -GEORGE TOLLET, 

THE COMMENTATOR ON SHAKSPEARE-GEORGE TOLLET AND 

FAMILY-AGRICULTURAL MEETINGS-PAINTED WINDOW AT BET- 

LEY HALL—MR. TOLLET’S OPINION. 

LETTER XYI. 

BUDDILEE-MR. STEELE-DODDLESPOOL HALL-MR. R. HODG¬ 
SON-MR. AND MRS. RASBOTHAM-MR. LEES-SALUBRITY-AGE 

OF MRS. STEELE, MR. STEELE, HIS SISTER, OF ROBERT AND 
MARTHA ROWLEY, OF EDWARD AND JANE ROWLEY—NATURAL 
HISTORY-TEAL-WATER FOWL OF BETLEY POOL—HERON- 


RAWCLIFF HALL. 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


LETTER XYII. 

CREWE—MO NT ALT—DE MARA—HAWARDEN HENRY DE CRIWA 
SIR THOMAS DE CRUE—THOMAS DE CRUE THOMAS DE CREWE 
JOAN CREWE—RICHARD PRAERS—MEMOIR OF SIR RANULPHE 
CREWE—PEDIGREE. 


LETTER XVIII. 

THOMAS DAMME—MEMOIR OF SIR THOMAS CREWE—HERRICK S 
VERSES TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD, 

AND EPITAPH ON THE LADY CREWE-STEANE MANSION HOUSE— 

STEANE CHAPEL AND MONUMENTS-HOLBECK BRIDGE-BRACK- 

LEY-JOHN CREWE, FIRST BARON CREWE OF STEANE. 

9 

LETTER XIX. 

MEMOIR OF NATHANAEL CREWE, BISHOP OF DURHAM-DR. 

RICHARD GREY. 


LETTER XX. 

SIR CLIPPESBY CREWE—RANDAL CREWE—JOHN CREWE—JOHN 
CREWE-ANNE CREWE—JOHN OFFLEY-MADELEY MANOR PARK. 


APPENDIX. 




BARTHOMLEY 


LETTER I. 

MucTelestone Rectory , 1855. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

OU are desirous to know sometliing more than 
you at present know of the place of your birth, 
and of the persons and events connected there¬ 
with. A desire so natural I shall be glad, as far 
as I can, to gratify. I purpose, therefore, as time and oppor¬ 
tunity may allow, to write to you on the subject, in a series of 
letters. Even the history of a small rural parish, although 
confined to an account of itself, and of the persons and customs 
actually belonging to it, may have more than a local interest, 
for it presents a miniature history of the world. There we be¬ 
hold our fellow-man in every phase of character and conduct; 
there the same passions bend him to their purpose; a similar 
ambition urges him to seek pre-eminence and power, in the 
humble, yet far from useless, meetings of his parish; the same 
hopes and fears, virtues and vices, struggles and triumphs, 
varied and modified by circumstances, are his, just as really 
as in the thronged courts, and the more exciting business of a 
great metropolis. This sentiment seems to have possessed the 
mind of Gray, when writing that poem, so full of truth and 
feeling, and read and read again, and dwelt upon and quoted by 
us with never failing interest,—his “Elegy written in a Country 
Church-Yard. ,r How inimitably has his imagination described 





2 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


the characters of those sleeping the sleep of death beneath his 
feet: 

“ Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 
Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; 

Hands, that the rod of empire might have sway’d, 

Or wak’d to ecstacy the living lyre. 

“ Some village Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, 

The little Tyrant of his fields withstood, 

Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, 

Some Cromwell guiltless of his country’s blood.” 

BAKTHOMLEY is peculiarly endeared to me. There I 
was born; there a great portion of my life was spent; 
and there, too, I presided as Hector for fourteen years. Within 
its ancient church are the remains of my beloved parents, of 
two brothers, of two of my own babes, and of a long line of 
ancestry. In its village are centered some of my fondest as¬ 
sociations. My dearly-valued wife came from it. Every house, 
and tree, and hedge-row, of that rustic spot, have for me an in¬ 
terest, begun in childhood, cherished and strengthened through 
all the stages of my existence, and never to perish but in death. 
Heart-stirring circumstances these! which, together with your 
own expressed wish, have elicited this, my undertaking. But, 
let it be here understood, that I have no pretensions to anti¬ 
quarian knowledge. Archaeology has but lately risen from its 
neglected state; too lately, for me to attempt to become skilled 
in its deeply interesting lore; having duties and occupations 
which must not be laid aside for any study apart from them, 
however agreeable it may be. 

In a familiar and unpretending style, suited to your age and 
capacity, I purpose to bring together, in a continuous history,, 
scattered notices of former things, and persons, and events,, 
closely or distantly connected with the parish; and to add 
thereto some account of later occurrences and characters; to¬ 
gether with a description of its social condition, its customs, 
soil, agriculture, products, and scenery. My purpose will not 


BARTHOMLEY. 


3 


embrace the whole parish, but only the three townships which 
are under the immediate superintendence of the Hector. 

Your affectionate Father. 


LETTER II. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

The Parish of Barthomley is partly in the county of 
Chester, and partly in the county of Stafford. It is bounded 
by Lawton, Sandbach, Warmingham, Church Coppenhall, Wy- 
bunbury, in Cheshire; and by Audley and Betley, in Stafford¬ 
shire. It consists of five townships,—Barthomley, Balterley, 
Crewe, Alsager, Haslington. To the three first-mentioned 
townships our little history is limited: and, first, of 

This township is in Cheshire, and in the hundred of Nant- 
wich. The Domesday survey places it among the dependencies 
of the barony of Wich-Malbank:— 

“ Isdem Willielmus (Malbedeng) tenet Bertemeleu ; Seuardus 
tenuit, et liber homo fait: ibi una liida geldabilis; terra est 
hi carucarum: in dominio est una et n bovarii: presbyter , et 
unus radman , et unus villanus , et h bordarii , cum 11 carucis: ibi 
una acra prati: silva una leuvd long a, et dimidid lata, et una 
haia, et aira accipitris. Valuit et valet xx solidos, wasta inve¬ 
nt tur” 

William the Conqueror w T as a most munificent rewarder of 
those who served him. The Barons, by whose aid he subdued 
England, received from him large possessions of land. Leyces- 
ter , 1 in his Prolegomena, informs us that Chester, and the 


1 Sir Peter Leycester, Bart. Historical Antiquities. 




4 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


county thereof, the king had lately given to one Gherbod, a 
nobleman of Flanders. This man, wearied by the unceasing 
fatigues and dangers of his post, resigned his command, his fiefs 
and honors; and, returning to Flanders, had the misfortune to 
fall into the hands of his enemies, who subjected him to a long 
imprisonment. ‘In the meantime, that is to say, sub anno 
Domini 1070, king William gave the earldom of Chester to 
Hugh de Auranges,’ surnamed Lupus, the wolf, who was the 
first Norman Earl of Chester; this title having been held by 
many Saxons before the conquest. 

Hugh Lupus, so called from the ferocity of his character, 
was nephew of the Conqueror, being son of Richard, Earl of 
Auranges—sometimes spelt Avranches,—by Emma, William’s 
sister by his mother. He came into England with his uncle, 
and, being a great favourite with him, received from him (says 
Webb,) 1 ‘ a dignity and place above all the rest of his kinsmen 
and friends that came with him, creating him Earl Palatine of 
Chester, and Swordbearer of England, granting unto him, and 
that province, most ample privileges, even as large and great 
as could be reasonably required, passing in his grant these 
words, “ habendum et tenendum preedict, com . Cestrice sibi et 
heredibus suis, ita libere ad gladium, sicut ipse rex totam tenebat 
Angliam ad coronam.” ’ And then, it is added, ‘By the re¬ 
lation of all writers, this earl was of most excellent parts for rule 
and government both in war and peace, and by his princely car¬ 
riage obtained great honor and dignity.’ Whatever he was as a 
ruler , his princely carriage has suffered rather severely from the 
pen of Ordericus, (whose account of him Webb surely cannot 
have read,) who describes him as a selfish, careless spendthrift; 
extremely devoted to field-sports; irreligious; sensual; and so 
fat, from excessive gluttony, ‘that he could scarce crawle’! The 
Welsh, who bitterly hated him, and not without sufficient rea¬ 
son, called him Hugh Dirgane —in their language, Hugh the 
Gross. Leycester, in his Prolegomena, sums up his military 

1 King’s Vale Royal of England: or, The County Palatine of Chester Illustrated. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


5 


character in this curt sentence: ‘ This Hugh, with Robert of 
Rothelent, and Robert of Malpas, and other cruel potentates, 
spilt much of the Welchmen’s blood.’ And if what is related 
of his treatment of the conquered Welsh, in Anglesea, be true, 
he well deserved the name of Lupus. But, perhaps, it is not 
quite fair to judge of deeds committed in the eleventh century 
by the rules of the nineteenth. An age of semi-barbarism 
cannot be expected to glory in much tenderness of feeling; and 
although ‘Lupus’ shews that this earl was in advance of his 
compeers in acts of cruelty, yet his deeds would not create, in 
the minds of the men of his days, that horror which even the 
bare recital of them now does. According to Leycester, he was 
earl of Chester thirty-one years; Webb says he governed the 
earldom forty years; Smith says the same. A similar dis¬ 
crepancy as to the date of his death exists. Leycester asserts 
that he died the 27th day of July, Anno Christi 1101, 1 king 
Henry I., and gives his authority (Ord. Yitalis.)—“Anno 1101. 
Intered Hugo comes Cestrice in lectum decidit, et post diuturnum 
languorem monochatum in coenobio , quod idem Cestria construx- 
erat, suscepit: atque pdst triduum sexto calendas Augusti oibiit” 
Webb states that he died about 1107, 8 Henry I., on the 27th 
of July. Smith, in his treatise, says that he was buried in the 
Abbey of St. Werburgh, Anno 1109, 10 Henry I. I leave the 
settlement of these differences to abler heads than mine; in 
spite of them, the one great fact—so pregnant with interest to 
Cheshire, and some of its chief families—remains intact, viz., 
that such a man did actually once exist, and fulfil the part as¬ 
signed to him by history, and die. Ormerod informs us, that 
his body was first buried in the cemetery of the abbey, but was 
afterwards removed to the chapter-house by Randle Meschines. 1 

Hugh was a munificent benefactor to the Church, a circum¬ 
stance not uncommon in those days, when great crimes were to 
be expiated by great deeds of ecclesiastical liberality. He was 
also profusely generous to his friends and servants. The Earl 

1 Ormerod’s History of Cheshire, vol. 1, page 15. 


G 


BARTHOMLEY. 




of Chester had royal authority within himself; in fact, he was 
a petty king; his County Palatine a small imperium in im- 
perio; all the pomp and circumstance belonging to a throne 
were also his in a limited degree. ‘He had power to create 
under him many barons, whom he placed in several parts of 
his jurisdiction, giving unto them great possessions, and be¬ 
stowing upon them large and special privileges.’ 1 A list of 
eight of the most distinguished of these is preserved, viz., Hal- 
ton, Montalt, Wich-Malbedeng, Malpas, Shipbrooke, Dunham 
Massie, Kinderton, Stockport. 

The extract given at the beginning of this letter, from Domes¬ 
day Book, relates to one of these, William de Malbedeng. On 
him was conferred, with the Wich to which his name was im¬ 
mediately appended, the entire hundred of Nantwich; and thus 
Bartliomley, situate in that hundred, became his. 

With this brief introduction to the Malbedeng family, I shall 
conclude this letter, and am, 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER III. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

I told you, in my last letter, that on William de Malbedeng 
was conferred the entire hundred of Nantwich, which includes 
the parish of Barthomley; thus he was brought into close con¬ 
nexion with it, being nothing less than its proprietor; or, to 
speak more in accordance with the phraseology of antiquity, its 
lord. There is no necessity for attempting to give a long ac¬ 
count of him. I do not find that he was specially distinguished 
by any exploit of arms or statesmanship; but his appointment 
to the barony, the duties of which required no mean military 


1 King’s Vale Royal. 



BARTHOMLEY. 


7 


and civil talent, is an evident proof tliat he was a good soldier, 
ready and able to defend his fee, and a wise and trustworthy 
councillor; perhaps it was in testimony of his merit that the 
Wich granted to him was the only one Hugh Lupus did not re¬ 
tain as parcel of the demesne of the earldom; be this as it may, 
his donation to the monastery of St. Werburgh does prove, at 
least, a liberality of heart. 

His son, Hugh Malbanc, (or, Hugh de Maubanc,) doubtless 
named after the friend and patron of his father, succeeded to 
the barony and its appendages. Little, I believe, is known of 
him; but that little redounds to his credit. He founded the 
Abbey of Combermere early in the twelfth century, granting 
his charter to it, and, with other donations, the endowment 1 of 
one-fourth of the vill of Wich-Malbank . 2 

William Malbank, his son and heir, was the last male baron 
of the Norman line. He left three daughters, and co-heiresses, 
Philippa, Eleanor, and Auda. To Philippa, who married 
Thomas lord Basset, of Heddington, co. oxon., passed the 

paramount royalty of Barthomley. “ Prima filia . habuit 

homagium et servitium clominorum villarum subscriptarum, viz: 
Bartwmlegh, dkc ” 3 

Here we bid farewell, for a time, to the family of Malbank, 
and turn to one more intimately connected with the township, 
and which, before the tripartite division of the barony, held the 
mesne manor and advowson, under the barons of Wich-Mal¬ 
bank,—the family of Praers. 

Much cannot be related of this family, beyond a dry, confused, 
and unsatisfactory pedigree, with which I shall not trouble you. 
Barthomley, latterly held of the king in capite as earl of 
Chester, by military service, was in the possession of the Praers 
for nearly three hundred years; from the time of William 

1 These were confirmed by his son, William de Maubanc, in a charter which 
added other privileges, and further donations. 

2 The confirmation charter of Randle Gernons, Earl of Chester, which ratifies 
the donations of the founder and his son, is dated 1130. Ormerod, vol. 3, page 209. 

3 Harl. MS. 2115—135. 



8 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Rufus, to that of Richard the Second. In the twelfth year of 
the reign of Edward the Second, Richard Praers married 
Johanna, daughter and co-heiress of Thomas de Crewe, and 
had two sons; Randle, who died without issue, and Thomas, 
whose daughter and heir brought Crewe and Barthomley, and 
other estates, in marriage to Sir Robert Fulleshurst. “ Sir 
Robert Fulleshurst, of Crewe, knight, held for life, by courtesy 
of England, the manors of Crewe, Rartumlegh, and Landecan 
in Wyrrhall, with the advowsons of the churches of Bartumlegh 
and Woodchurch, after the death of Elizabeth, daughter and 
heiress of Thomas Praers of Bartumlegh, who held the same 
in demesne, as of fee, from the king as earl of Chester, by 
military service, and the render of 13s. 4d.’ ,:l 

Neither remains nor tradition point out any spot in Barthom¬ 
ley where the seat of the Praers was; that it did once exist 
there, will not he considered a very bold conjecture. Most 
probably the close vicinity of the two halls of Crewe and 
Barthomley, helped forward the matrimonial alliance which 
linked together the two estates. The members of each family 
would not unfrequently meet; and the place of worship being 
the same to both, it is no great stretch of the imagination to 
suppose (for such things have been, and will be again!) that, 
even in the sacred edifice, looks were exchanged, which found a 
verbal utterance when the service of the parish church w r as 
ended. And, when society was not so easy of being obtained 
as now, Richard Praers would deem it no slight advantage, 
that, within a gentle walk from his own door was the bower of 
his ladye-love. I have sought, in vain, for the probable site 
of his house. It has occurred to me, that where the Rectory 
now stands might have been the place; from time immemorial 
the Rectory has been, and is yet, called the Hall; a title not 
usually conferred on glebe-houses, but, generally, on the re¬ 
sidence of the manorial lord. And, again, I have thought that 
the homestead of a farm, called the “town-house,” might de- 

1 Inq. p. m. 13 Rich. II. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


9 


signate the spot; the name indicates distinction, and has be¬ 
longed to it for centuries. I remember it, one of those tim¬ 
bered houses, black and white, which were once so common in 
Cheshire; it stood upon the brow of an elevated bank, looking 
down upon the Hall of Crewe; it has served to feed my mus- 
ings, and perhaps to waste my time; we will therefore pass on 
to more certain passages in the life of Sir Bobert Fulleshurst. 
He was one of those great warriors, who, in the reign of Edward 
the Third, raised the military fame of England to the highest 
pinnacle of glory, and who, as I have already observed, married 
the granddaughter of Bichard Praers. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTEB IV. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

Sir Bobert Fulleshurst sprang from a patrician family settled 
at Edlaston, in the parish of Acton, county of Chester, and 
hundred of Nantwich; which, by the inquisition 16 Edward I, 
is stated to have been a dependency of the barony of Wich- 
Malbank. He was the second son of Bichard de Fulleshurst, of 
Edlaston, and Ellena his wife; his father had the distinguished 
honor of being several times high-sheriff of the county. Of 
the early days of his son Bobert, I can meet with no account; 
we may safely infer that from his youth he possessed much 
military ardour, and that his martial qualities and qualifications 
recommended him to the special notice and favour of James, 
the great lord Audley, who appointed him one of his esquires. 

The romantic history of this lord Audley and his four 
esquires, forms a delightful and refreshing episode in the stem 
pages which record the bloody battles of the reign of Edward 

B 



10 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the Third, and shews that a native nobleness of mind, and the 
warm and generous affections of the heart, are not always bru¬ 
talised, nor destroyed, by the fierce strife and cruelties of war. 
According to tradition, the four esquires were Cheshire men; 
Sir John Delves, Sir Bobert Fulleshurst, Sir Thomas Dutton, 
and Sir John Hawkstone. Sir John Hawkstone, as well as 
lord Audley, had lands in Staffordshire, hut, properly speaking, 
they were all of them Cheshire men, by birth, family, and in¬ 
heritance. In the park at Doddington, Cheshire, now the seat 
of Sir Henry Delves Broughton, Bart., are the remains of a 
castellet, in the outer staircase of which are five statues, as 
large as life, of lord Audley and his esquires. To the valour 
of these five men the victory of Poictiers was in great measure 
due, and, therefore, I think you will not deem it an idle di¬ 
gression if, from the graphic pages of Froissart, I give you the 
striking narrative of the exploits of these heroes on this their 
field of triumph. It exhibits not only a glowing picture of 
martial prowess, hut also a touching tale of disinterested friend¬ 
ship. 1 

The young Prince of Wales, eldest son of Edward the Third, 
and known by the title of Edward the Black Prince, from the 
colour of his armour, ‘which,’ the Pere d' Orleans says, ‘gave 
eclat to the fairness of his complexion, and a relief to his bonne 
minei took the field, in France, July, 1356, with about twelve 
or fourteen thousand men. He marched into Gascony, and 
having invaded the county of Berry, and taken the town of 

1 “ The victories of Cressy and Poitiers, with all their vices and miserable conse¬ 
quences, had, no doubt, some good effects upon the English nation. The nation 
(understanding by the term the coalesced mass of Saxons and Normans) about this 
time began to exist. We were astonished at our own prowess and success. We 
learned to respect ourselves. Self-reverence is one of the most powerful incentives 
to virtue, and one of the strongest stimulants to glorious enterprise. If the English 
have excelled every other modern nation in justness of feeling, in integrity of con¬ 
duct, in the cultivation of domestic and honourable sentiment, in depth of science, 
and ardour of poetical imagination, the victories of Cressy and Poitiers are not un¬ 
worthy to find a place among the causes which have made us what we are.”— God¬ 
win, Life of Chaucer, vol. 2, page 121. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


11 


Romorantin, at length approaches within a few leagues of the 
city of Poitiers, where the English van came unexpectedly upon 
the rear of the French army. The Prince immediately sends 
out a detachment to reconnoitre its strength and position; and 
having learnt that it was quartered in large numbers in the 
fields around Poitiers, and seeing that a battle was inevitable, 
at once took up a very strong position among vineyards and 
hedges, and calmly awaited the result. On the morning of 
Sunday, 18th September, the two armies prepared for battle. 
Forty-eight thousand French were there, ‘among whom might 
be seen all the nobility of France, richly dressed in brilliant 
armour, with banners and pennons gallantly displayed, for all 
the flower of the French nobility were there. No knight nor 
squire, for fear of dishonour, dared to remain at home.’ And 
there, too, were they to meet with a disaster, this flaunting 
host of men little thought of. The English were a mere 
handful, against a multitude; according to the estimate of Sir 
Eustace de Eibeaumont and his companions, they amounted to 
about two thousand men at arms, four thousand archers, and 
footmen, in all seven thousand five hundred; and these were 
distressed and weakened by a forced march on Saturday, and a 
great scarcity of provisions. The two armies did not imme¬ 
diately engage. One whose sacred office urged him to promote 
peace and good-will to men, spared no endeavours to reconcile 
the two parties, hut in vain—I mean the Cardinal de Perigord. 
To his proposal of acting as mediator between the Prince and 
the King of France, Black Edward, with a high sense of honor 
and discretion, returned this memorable and noble answer, * Sir, 
my own honor, and that of my army, saved, I am ready to listen 
to any reasonable terms.’ No terms could be effected, and the 
sunrise of Monday, September 19th, beheld the Prince and his 
devoted little army preparing themselves to meet, in deadly con¬ 
flict, the masses of the King of France. Previous to the engage¬ 
ment, Edward addressed his troops in a strain of modest piety, 
and unwavering courage, which must have excited them to the 


12 


BARTHOMLEY. 


highest pitch of enthusiasm. ‘Now, my gallant fellows, said 
he, ‘what though we he a small body when compared to the 
army of our enemies, do not let us he cast down on that ac¬ 
count, for victory does not always follow numbers, but where 
the Almighty God pleases to bestow it. If, through good for¬ 
tune, the day shall be ours, we will gain the greatest honour 
and glory in this world; but if the contrary should happen, and 
we be slain, I have a father and beloved brethren alive, and you 
all have some relations or good friends, who will be sure to re¬ 
venge our deaths. I, therefore, entreat of you to exert your¬ 
selves and combat manfully, for, if it please God, and St. George, 
you shall see me this day act like a true knight.’ Scarcely 
were these thrilling words concluded, when the lord James 
Audley, seeing the certainty of battle, stepped forward and said 
to the Prince, ‘ Sir, I have ever served most loyally my lord 
your father and yourself, and shall continue so to do as long 
as I have life. Dear Sir, I must now acquaint you that formerly 
I made a vow, if ever I should be engaged in any battle where 
the King your father or any of his sons were, that I would be 
the foremost in the attack, and the best combatant on his side, 
or die in the attempt. I beg, therefore, most earnestly, as a 
reward for any services I may have done, that you would grant 
me permission honourably to acquit you, that I may put my¬ 
self in such wise to accomplish my vow.’ The Prince granted 
this request, and, holding out his hand to him, said, ‘ Sir 
James, God grant that this day you may shine in valour 
above all other knights.’ ‘ The battle began to rage, when 
the lord James Audley, attended by his four esquires , placed 
himself, sword in hand, in front of the Prince’s battalion, much 

before the rest, and performed wonders.The lord James 

Audley, with the assistance of his four esquires, was always en¬ 
gaged in the heat of the battle. He was severely wounded in 
the body, head, and face; and, as long as his strength and 
breath permitted him, he maintained the fight, and advanced 
forward; he continued to do so until he was covered with 



BARTHOMLEY. 


13 


blood. Then, towards the close of the engagement, his four 
esquires, who were his body guard, took him and led him out of 
the engagement, very weak and wounded, towards a hedge, that 
he might cool and take breath. They disarmed him as gently 
as they could, in order to examine his wounds, dress them, and 
sew up the most dangerous.’ 

He, in whom Edward trusted—the Lord of battles—was 
pleased to give victory to the English that day. Their enemies 
quailed before them, and, panic-stricken, fled from the field, 
leaving their baggage behind them, and their King a prisoner; 
a practical comment on that passage of holy writ, “ I returned, 
and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the 
battle to the strong.” 1 

Even in this moment of exultation, amidst circumstances 
which powerfully excite and fill the human heart, the Prince did 
not forget his friend. He enquired, from those knights who were 
about him, of lord James Audley, and asked if any one knew 
what was become of him. £ Yes, Sir,’ replied some of the com¬ 
pany, 4 he is very badly wounded, and is lying in a litter hard 
by.’ 4 By my troth,’ replied the Prince, 4 1 am sore vexed that 
he is so wounded. See, I beg of you, if he be able to bear 
being carried hither: otherwise I will come and visit him.’ 
Two knights directly left the Prince, and coming to lord James, 
told him how desirous the Prince w r as of seeing him. 4 A 
thousand thanks to the Prince,’ answered lord James, 4 for 
condescending to remember so poor a knight as myself.’ He 
then called eight of his servants, and had himself borne in his 
litter, to where the Prince was. When he was come into his 
presence, the Prince bent down over him, and embraced him, 
saying, 4 my lord James, I am bound to honour you very 
much; for, by your valour this day, you have acquired glory 
and renowm above us all; and your prowess has proved you the 
bravest knight.’ Lord James replied, 4 My Lord, you have a 
right to say whatever you please, but I wish it were as you have 

1 Eccles. ix, 11. 


14 


BARTHOMLEY. 


said. If I have this day been forward to serve you, it has been 
to accomplish a vow that I had made, and it ought not to be 
thought so much of.’ ‘ Sir James,’ answered the Prince, I 
and all the rest of us deem you the bravest knight on our side 
in this battle; and to increase your renown, and furnish you 
withal to pursue your career of glory in war, I retain you hence¬ 
forward, for ever, as my knight, with five hundred marcs (the 
marc is 13s. 4d.) of yearly revenue, which I will secure to you 
from my estates in England.’ ‘ Sir,’ said lord James, ‘God 
make me deserving of the good fortune you bestow upon me.’ 
At these words he took leave of the Prince, as he was very 
weak, and his servants carried him back to his tent. 

Never had a scene of battle a sequel more full of amiable 
disinterestedness than this; it does honour to human nature. 
No feat of arms could place a brighter wreath of glory around 
the brows of these two heroic men, than their conduct did at 
the close of this bloody day. They stood opposed to each 
other, but not in the savage rivalry of w r ar; theirs was a friendly 
contention which most should conquer self. How honourable, 
and yet how just, is Edward’s appreciation of the services of 
the valiant knight! How humble the estimate of his services 
by the lord Audley himself—exhibiting that sterling modesty 
so indicative of true nobleness of heart and mind! 

Humility seems to have been the prevailing trait in the cha¬ 
racter of the Black Prince. After the battle of Creci, in which 
the boy (for boy he was, sixteen years of age,) won his spurs— 
ever foremost in the thick fight—when his father came down 
from his post, and, in the presence of the whole army, embraced 
and kissed his son, and said, ‘ Sweet Son, God give you good 
perseverance, you are my true Son, for loyally have you ac¬ 
quitted yourself this day, and worthy are you of a crown,’ the 
youth bowed very lowly, and, humbling himself, gave all the 
honour to the King his Father. 1 

1 “ Edward the Black Prince has universally been considered as the most con¬ 
summate hero the school of chivalry ever bred; and he passed a glorious life of 


BARTHOMLEY. 


15 


But, generous as the Prince was, he found a rival in this re¬ 
spect, in his newly-appointed knight. ‘When the lord James 
Audley was brought back to his tent, after having most respect¬ 
fully thanked the Prince for his gift, he did not remain long 
before he sent for his brother Sir Peter Audley, the lord Bar- 
thomlew Burghersh, Sir Stephen Coffington, Lord Willowby of 
Eresby, and Lord Ferrers of Groby; they were all his relations. 
He then sent for his four esquires that had attended upon him 
that day, and addressing himself to the knights, said, ‘ Gentle¬ 
men, it has pleased my lord the Prince, to give me five hundred 
marks as a yearly inheritance, (£333 6s. 8d. per annum,) for 
which gift I have done him very trifling bodily service. You 
see here these four esquires, who have always served me most 
loyally, and especially in this day’s engagement. What glory I 
may have gained, has been through their means, and by their 
valour, on which account I wish to reward them. I, therefore, 
give and resign into their hands the gift of five hundred marks, 
which my lord the Prince has been pleased to bestow on me, 
in the same form and manner that it has been presented to me. 
I disinherit myself of it, and give it to them simply, and with¬ 
out a possibility of revoking it.’ The knights present looked 
on each other and said, 4 It is becoming the noble mind of lord 
James to make such a gift;’ and then unanimously added, ‘May 
the Lord God remember you for it; we will bear witness of 
this gift to them, wheresoever and whensoever they may call on 


forty-six years, untarnished with the breath of a censure. He had assisted in the 
battle of Cressy, and he had won the battle of Poitiers; two of the most consider¬ 
able victories in modern times. History has scarcely fixed upon this elevated per¬ 
sonage the shadow of a blemish.”— Godwin, Life of Chaucer, vol. 2, pages 126-302. 

1 Sir John Froissart’s Chronicles. 

(Note .)—James lord Audley died in 9 Rich. II., leaving one son and three daugh¬ 
ters. The military renown of his family was upheld by his grandson and namesake, 
James Touchet, lord Audley, who, firmly and faithfully attached to the House of 
Lancaster, was appointed to the command of that army which was defeated by the 
Earl of Salisbury, at Blore Heath, in Staffordshire. This battle was the second in 
the quarrel of the two Houses of Lancaster and York. Here the loyal warrior fell, 


16 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Here we will stop—not a word more must weaken tlie effect 
of tliis display of noble generosity. 


Yours, &c. 


LETTER Y. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

« There is a tide in the affairs of men, 

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune 

So wrote one whose observation and sagacity have never 
been equalled by mere man. And, doubtless, this gift of 
James lord Audley, was “the tide’s flood” which bore upon 
its bosom the future fortune of Robert Fulleshurst: to use 
a familiar expression, “it was the making of him.” One 
hundred and twenty-five marks, indeed, (supposing the gift was 
equally divided to the four squires,) do not sound a very large 

together with some of the heads of the noblest families of Cheshire. A low stone 
cross, which you have seen, marks the spot on which he died, and it is called 
“ Audley Cross” to this day, by the people of the neighbourhood. The pedestal on 
which it is placed has, on the north side, the following inscription, now partly effaced: 

“ On this Spot 
Was fought the Battle of 
Blore-Heath, 

In 1459. 

Lord Audley, 

Who commanded for the side of Lancaster, 

Was defeated & Slain. 

To perpetuate the memory 
of the Action and the Place, 

This ancient monument 
was repaired in 
1765, 

At the Charge of the Lord of the Manor, 

Charles Boothby Skrymsher.” 

From the top of Mucklestone Church Steeple Queen Margaret saw her troops 
defeated. To baffle pursuit, her horse’s shoes were taken off, and put on the wrong 
way, tradition states, by a blacksmith of the name of Skelhorn, whose lineal de¬ 
scendant, W. Skelhorn, is now a blacksmith and the parish clerk of Muckle¬ 
stone. (1855.) 






BARTHOMLEY. 


17 


sum to us, but the value of money, and of the necessaries of 
life, was very different then from what it is now; and one hundred 
and twenty-five marks, annually, would, in Fulleshurst’s day, 
afford him a handsome competency. As a younger son, he was 
not likely to have had much; probably, his stalwart arm and 
bright sword were his only patrimony; but now this gift raised 
him to independence, and sent him back to his own county, 
no longer the mere soldier of fortune, but the man of sub¬ 
stance, having wherewithal to live upon, and therein a some¬ 
thing to recommend him to the favorable regard of others. 

We hear of him as an active warrior no more. From an 
esquire he attained to the dignity of a knight; he was a knight 
in 42 Edw. Ill, and was decorated with the Collar of SS. 
History tells not whether these honors were conferred upon 
him for other and later deeds of glory than his at Poitiers; but 
of this, I think, we may be certain, that his portion of the 
marks, and of glory’s titles, would not be a small recommenda¬ 
tion of the soldier to the notice first, and to the affection next, 
of the rich heiress of Barthomley and Crewe, Elizabeth Praers. 

Alas! what a wretched chance, of the fair hand of the lady of 
the manor, would a young ensign, living upon his pay, have now! 
How would he shrink under a sense of the cold and ceremoni¬ 
ous civilities of a prudent mother, too palpably intended to 
keep him at a respectful distance from her daughter! But see 
him raised in the scale of rank and wealth—“ quantum mutatus 
ab illo Hectore ,”—his martial deeds the theme of every tongue, 
and this self-same individual man is no longer shunned and 
rebuffed, but courted and accepted. This is very natural: 
I find no fault with it; but it is the reason why I do not 
believe that Elizabeth loved Robert Fulleshurst only “ for the 
dangers he had passed,” and he “ loved her, that she did pity 
them.” This is more dramatic than real; there was other 
“ witchcraft” used than this, the witchcraft of a name and purse , 
which moderate means and humble station cannot deal in. 

So, Sir Robert became a country gentleman; residing upon 

c 


18 


BARTHOMLEY. 


estates, which, by courtesy of England, he had a life inter¬ 
est in through his marriage. After “hair-breadth scapes,” he 
returned to Cheshire, scathless and prospering, and, like a true 
Cheshire man, observed his county’s proverb, “Better wed over 
the mixon than over the moor;” in which, perhaps, you will 
agree with me, he did very well. He died 13 Bich. II, leaving 
a daughter, Isabella, wife of Thomas de Wever; and a son, 
Sir Thomas Fulleshurst, who inherited the estates. He was 
buried in the north-east corner of the chancel of Barthomley 
church: you remember his tomb—an ornamented altar tomb 
of alabaster, on the top of which is the recumbent figure of the 
knight, clad in armour, with mail, gorget and conical helmet, 
in front of which are the words “Ich Nazarene,” and Collar of 
SS., his feet resting on a lion. 1 This has shared the fate of 
many other tombs; it has been broken, chipped, and carved 
upon, by the wanton hands of school-boys; and, what is nearly 
as bad, covered with successive coats of whitewash, that beauti¬ 
fying elixir which rustic churchwardens have so commonly de¬ 
lighted in. The Fulleshurst dynasty continued from this time 
to the reign of Queen Elizabeth. It retained its position in 
the county until—through the traditional extravagance of 
another Bobert—the estates were sold, 21 Eliz., to Sir Chris¬ 
topher Hatton, afterwards Lord Chancellor of England, and 
K.Gr. His tenure of them was so short that I shall not ven¬ 
ture to claim him as one of those worthies which swell the fame 

1 It is not a little interesting to notice the perpetuity of names, in the absence, 
probably, of any other memorial, of persons once associated with an important his¬ 
torical event,—Punch, now regarded as an established publication, has (April 28th, 
1855,) one of his serio-comic productions, which, curiously contrasting the circum¬ 
stances of “ Two Visitors” to England, (the King of France, 1357, and the 
Emperor Napoleon, 1855,) refers to our hero Fulleshurst, as assisting at the 
triumphal entry of Edward the Black Prince into London with his captive, John, 
King of France. It deserves notice, but I will quote the lines only which make 
mention of Lord Audley and his Squires: 

“ There rides the Lord James Audley, the bravest man that day, 

“ And near him the four trusty Squires, who saw him through the fray— 
“Dutton and Delves and Fowlehurst, and Hawkstone of Wrinehill— 

“ Names glib in many a mouth that morn,—thank God, remembered still.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


19 


of Barthomley. He, or Iris representatives, sold them to Sir 
Randulph Crewe, knight, whose history comes, more properly, 
under the head of Creive. Until we there resume this thread 
of our discourse, we shall bid farewell to the proprietors —or 
lords—of Barthomley, and pass on to an account of the parish 
church, its patron saint, and its incumbents . 1 

Yours, &c. 

1 From Mr. Jones, Solicitor, of Nantwich,—whose antiquarian knowledge is of 
no mean order—I have received further information respecting the Fulleshurst 
family. He writes,—“ In this year (1513,) Robert Fulleshurst, Esq., lord of Crewe, 
the fifth in descent from Sir Robert Fulleshurst, knight, one of lord Audley’s 
esquires, at the memorable battle of Poictiers, left his lady and youthful family of 
nine children, (the eldest of whom, Edward Fulleshurst, was not more than fourteen 
years of age at the time,) to fight for king Henry VIII, in the wars against king 
James the Fourth, of Scotland, and was slain at the battle of Flodden-Field,* whose 
premature death greatly contributed to the subsequent fall of the ancient house of 
Fulleshurst; the Flodden-Field warrior’s grandson, Robert Fulleshurst, Esq., eldest 
son of Sir Thomas Fulleshurst, the last knight of that family, having been com¬ 
pelled to alienate Crewe, Barthomley, and all his Cheshire demesnes, in the year 
1579, principally to Sir Christopher Hatton, Queen Elizabeth’s Chancellor; from 
whose heirs Randulphe Crewe, Esq., (afterwards Sir Ran. Crewe, knight, Chief 
Justice of England, whose ancestor—Thomas de Crewe, more than three centuries 
previous—was lord of Crewe,) purchased them in the year 1608.” 

* “ The great battle of Flodden was fought upon the 9th Sept., 1513. The de¬ 
feat of the Scottish army, was by far the most disastrous of any recounted in the 
history of the northern wars. The whole strength of the kingdom, both Lowland 
and Highland, was assembled, and the contest was one of the sternest and most des¬ 
perate upon record. For several hours the issue seemed doubtful; at last, the whole 
weight of the battle was brought into the centre, where King James and the Earl of 
Surrey commanded in person. ‘ It is owned,’ says Abercrombie, ‘ that both parties 
did wonders.’ Besides King James, there fell at Flodden the Archbishop of St. 
Andrews, thirteen earls, two bishops, two abbots, fifteen lords and chiefs of clans, 
and five peers’ eldest sons, besides La Motte the French ambassador, and the se¬ 
cretary of the king. Tytler adds, ‘ The names of the gentry who fell are too numer¬ 
ous for recapitulation, since there were few families of note in Scotland which did 
not lose one relative or another, whilst some houses had to weep the death of all. It 
is from this cause that the sensations of sorrow and national lamentation occasioned 
by the defeat were peculiarly poignant and lasting—so that to this day few Scots¬ 
men can hear the name of Flodden without a shudder of gloomy regret.’ 

“ No event in Scottish history ever took a more lasting hold of the public mind 
than the ‘ woeful fight’ of Flodden ; and, even now, the songs and traditions which 
are current on the Border recall the memory of a contest unsullied by disgrace, 
though terminating in disaster and defeat.”— Aytoun's hays of the Scottish Cavaliers. 

“ The numbers that fell on each side were nearly equal; but the English lost 
only persons of small note.”— Hume. 



20 


BARTHOMLEY. 


LETTER VI. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

delight in seeing The Church standing, as it 
ought, on an eminence which commands its village. 
That on which ours is built,—from its being the 
burial place of the parish—is called the barrow hill. 
I have little doubt that a church existed here before the Con¬ 
quest; the present one is dedicated to an Anglo-Saxon saint; 
and, let me add, the only church in the whole world dedicated 
to him. From a circumstance in that saint’s life, the dedica¬ 
tion of the present church appears to have been a mark of hon¬ 
our to him, not originating , but taken up, at the time when it 
was built. I consider it to have been a mere transference from 
an old edifice to a new. This being very probably the case, it 
■ will be more in order to speak now of the Patron Saint, Ber- 
toline ; 1 and afterwards to describe the church, and matters 
connected with it. 

A few years ago, I was speculating upon the etymology of 
Barthomley, and came to the conclusion, from the dedication 
of the church to Bertoline, that Barthomley was a corruption 
of Bertoline’s ley; “ley,” as we all know, meaning, in Saxon, 
place. After spending much time and enquiry to substan¬ 
tiate this, chance brought me what I so much wanted. I 
was glancing over Dr. Plot’s History of Staffordshire, when I 
accidentally met with the following: 3 — “ A.D. 705. About 
this time, the place or island where the town of Stafford now 
stands, anciently called Bethnei, began first to be inhabited by 
St. Bertelline, the son of a king of this country, and scholar to 

1 September 9th is the day of his commemoration in the calendar of the Latin 
Church. Wilson, in the first edition of his “English Martyrologe,” says August 
12th ; but, in the second edition, September 29th. Molanus, and others, September 
9th; Suysken, the Bollandist, on this day. 

2 Original edit. c. x, s, 28. 








BARTHOMLEY. 


21 


St. Guthlac, with whom he tarried till his death. After which, 
though now unknown to his father, he begged this island of 
him, where he led a hermit’s life for many years, till disturbed 
by some that envied his happiness, when he removed into 
some desert mountainous places, where he ended his life, leav¬ 
ing Bethnei to others, who afterwards built it, and called it 
Stafford, there being a shallow place in the river hereabout, that 
could easily be passed with the help of a staff only. Now, 
whereabout this desert place should be that St. Bertelline went 
to, the histories are silent; yet, I have some grounds to think 
that it might be about Throwley, Ham, and Dovedale. And 
that this was the St. Bertram who has a well, an ash, and a 
tomb, at Ilam; for if, as Capgrave says, the town of Bertamly, 
in Cheshire, took its name from a miracle that St. Bertelline 
did there, I know not why the people about Ilam, Throwley, &c., 
might not corrupt his name as much as they in Cheshire , and 
call him St. Bertram, instead of St. Bertelline.” 

This little bit of information led me on to seek for more. 
Unfortunately “Capgravii nova legenda” were not within my 
reach, and until the fourth number of the “ Lives of the En¬ 
glish Saints,” edited, I am informed, by John Henry Newman, 
was lent to me by one of your cousins, all my attempts for 
nearer acquaintance with our saint were futile. From this work, 
however, I have gained something, and, omitting much that does 
not immediately bear upon Bertoline’s life, I shall lay before you 
the marvellous legend of St. Bettelin, as it is therein written. 
In the advertisement of this work, we are informed that “ The 
legend of St. Bettelin belongs to more than one author.” 

21 Hegentr of St JSrttelm, 

Hermit, and Patron of Stafford, towards a.d. 800. 

“ St Bettelin is the Patron of the town of Stafford, where he was once 
held in great honour; but little certain is known of him, down to his very 
name. Various writers speak of Bettelin, Beccelin, Barthelm, (Barthelms- 
ley_Barthomley,) Bertelin; whether he owned all these at once, or whether 


22 


BARTHOMLEY. 


but some of them, whether a portion of his history belongs to another per¬ 
son, or whether it is altogether fabulous, is not known. A life of him has 
come down to us, which is attributed to Alexander, a Prior of Canons Regu¬ 
lar of St. Augustine, in the beginning of the thirteenth century; but, though 
this Prior is well spoken of, little credit can be placed in the letter of its 
statements. Two other writers, Ingulphus and Felix, contain incidental 
mention of him, which is more trustworthy. We will put these notices toge¬ 
ther, under the guidance of the learned Suyskin, the Bollandist. 

“ Bettelin was a disciple of St. Guthlake’s, in the eighth century, and one 
of four who followed him in a hermit’s life, in the island of Croyiand, on the 
southern border of Lincolnshire. Something of a painful and a guilty nature 
hangs over the first years of Bettelin. Some cloud, it has been said, hung 
about his early years, which made him ever after a penitent. A wild extra¬ 
vagant tale is recorded by Prior Alexander. We are told that he was a 
king’s son, and noble in person, and a good Catholic; and how he shrunk 
from the licence of his father’s court; and how, to preserve his purity, he 
went over to Ireland, where he was received by a certain king or chieftain, 
who had a fair daughter; and how, in a strange land, he found the tempta¬ 
tion, and fell beneath the sin, which had frightened him from his own. He 
carried off his beautiful mistress to England, and sought for shelter and con¬ 
cealment in the woods. A wretched childbirth followed, and a tragical issue. 
While the father was seeking assistance, wolves devoured mother and infant. 
Bettelin remained a penitent in the wild, till St. Guthlake, who was leaving 
Repton, in Derbyshire, where he had entered into both clerical and monastic 
orders, took him with him to Croyiand. 

“ Such is the fable; but it so happens that we seem to be able to produce 
in this instance the real facts of the case, of which it is but the symbol and 
record: and though very different from the above, yet they are so far like it, 
as, alas! to be even more criminal and dreadful than it. One Felix, a con¬ 
temporary of St. Guthlake, wrote the life of the latter, shortly after his death, 
from the information of the Saint’s disciples. Among these was Bettelin; 
from him, who was at that time living with St. Guthlake on the most fami¬ 
liar terms, Felix learned the account of St. Guthlake’s last days upon earth. 
Now Felix also tells us, in an earlier passage of the Saint’s life, what the 
crime of Bettelin was. 

“ ‘ There was a certain clerk,’ says Felix, ‘ by name Beccelin, who offered 
himself for a servant to that great man St. Guthlake, and proposed to live to 
God holily, under his training. Into tills person’s heart the evil spirit en¬ 
tered, and began to puff him up with the pestilential conceits of vain glory; 
and next, after he had thus seduced him, he proceeded to suggest to him to 
seize the deadly weapon, and to kill the master, under whose training he had 
begun to live to God, with the object, after taking him off, of succeeding to 
his place, and receiving the veneration of kings and princes. Accordingly, 
on a day when the aforenamed clerk had come to shave Guthlake, the man 


BARTHOMLEY. 


23 


of God, afflicted by monstrous madness, and thirsting with exceeding desire 
for his blood, he made up his mind to murder him. 

“ ‘ Then the Saint of God, Guthlake, to whom the Lord did never fail to 
impart a prescience of things to come, having cognizance of the guilt of this 
new wickedness, began to question him. * 0, my Beccelin!’ he said, ‘ why 
under this carnal breast hidest thou the old enemy? Why not vomit forth 
these pestilential waters of bitter poison? For I know that thou art deceived 
by the evil spirit; wherefore confess the guilty meditations which our enemy, 
the accuser of the human race, has sown within you, and turn away from 
them.’ On this, Beccelin, understanding that he had been seduced by the 
evil spirit, cast himself at holy Guthlake’s feet, acknowledging his sin with 
tears, and humbly asking pardon. And the man of blessed memory not only 
forgave him the fault, but even promised him his aid in future troubles.” 

“ Thus speaks a contemporary author, who knew the parties; and it is 
certainly a remarkable passage in St. Guthlake’s history, that through life, 
up to his very death-bed, he was waited on in his bed-room by one who had 
all but turned the barber’s razor into a weapon for his destruction. There is 
nothing to shew that Bettelin did not continue to shave him as before this 
occurrence.” 

I confess, that, while I copy this, I cannot help laughing at 
the naive way in which St. Guthlake’s near shave of being 
murdered is told. Our Patron Saint, you see, had once the 
honor of being a barber! But, to proceed: 

“On St. Guthlake’s death, A.D. 714, Bettelin took the news, by the 
Saint’s previous directions, to St. Bega, Guthlake’s sister. What happened 
to Bettelin, after that event, does not clearly appear. Ingulphus says that 
he remained and died in Croyland, and he speaks of the marble tomb, which 
contained his relics, near St. Cuthbert, in the abbey of Croyland. And this 
is not incompatible altogether with the legend which connects him with the 
town of Stafford, and which is as follows:—‘ Where the town now stands, 
the river Sow formed in those times an island, which was called Bethney. 
Here St. Bettelin stationed himself for some years, and led a life so holy, 
that the place which profited by his miraculous gifts in his lifetime, grew 
into a town under his patronage after his death.’ 

“A wild, yet not unpleasing, fable is left us as a record of the Saint’s his¬ 
tory in this retreat. He had concealed his name when he took possession of 
the island; and on his father’s death, who was king of those parts, the 
usurper of St. Bettelin’s throne determined, without knowing who he was, 
and from inbred hatred, as it appears, of religion, to eject him from his 
island hermitage. However, perhaps the romantic narrative, which is now 
coming, will run better in rhyme; so we set off thus:— 

“ St. Bettelin’s wonted prayers are o’er 
And his matins all are said, 


24 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Why kneeleth he still on his clay-cold floor 
By the side of his iron bed? 

Ah! well may he kneel to Christ in prayer, 

For nought is around him hut woe and fear; 

By to-morrow’s sun the Saint must roam 
Far from his cell and his long-lov’d home. 

But who would drive this hermit good 
From his islet home and his rough old wood? 

He is no man who hath sought the wild 
In a wayward mood like a frolicsome child, 1 
Who hath wander’d away from his mother’s side 
Deep in the merry greenwood to hide. 

A golden crown he had cast away 
To watch all night and to fast all day; 

He was of those whom the Lord doth drive 
To the weary wild with devils to strive, 

For the banner’d Cross must be every where, 
Wherever the fiend doth make his lair, 

And devils trembled and angels smil’d 
When the hermit knelt in the’weary wild; 

While the peasant arose his heads to tell 
When the hermit rang his vesper hell. 

But what hath the world to do with him, 

That it grudgeth his home by the river’s brim? 

Hath it not woods and streams at will ? 

But so it hath been and it must be still, 

Earth may be broad and its bosom wide, 

But the world cannot rest with the cross by its side ; 
And the king hath said with a scornful smile, 

* The hermit hath chosen a fair green isle, 

By the river clasp’d around; 

And the turf is soft round his sweet chapelle, 

I warrant too he sleepeth well 
To that gushing river’s sound ; 

A Saint should not dwell in so fair a scene; 

And that river sweet with its islet green, 

I swear by high heaven it shall be mine 
In spite of this hermit St. Betteline.’ 

And he bade the hermit prove his right 
To his islet home in a deadly fight, 

And if no champion can be found 
He must quit by to-morrow this holy ground. 

And who is there for Christ the Lord 
To don his armour and draw his sword 


BARTHOMLEY. 


25 


And will not a knight put lance in rest 
To do this hermit’s poor behest? 

If for Christ they will not fight, 

Foul shame on England’s chivalry, 

Their dancing plume and armour bright 
Are but summer pageantry. 

But let the wordlings pass along, 

A Saint in prayer is wondrous strong. 

* Lord,’ he saith, ‘ I do not grieve 
This sweet place for aye to leave, 

For if Thy love abide with me, 

Barren cliff or flowery lea, 

All is well that pleaseth Thee; 

But for Thy glory’s sake arise, 

Cast down the strong, confound the wise.’ 

He rose from his knee, and then there stole 
A low sweet voice to his inmost soul,— 

‘ Man to Saints and Angels dear, 

Christ in heaven hath heard thy prayer.’ 

Oh! how that whisper deep and calm, 

Dropp’d on his weary heart like balm, 

Then St. Betteline rose, for the morning red 
Through his lattic’d window was sweetly shed. 

On the red tipp’d willow the dew-drop gloweth, 

At his feet the happy river floweth, 

And sweetly the lightly-passing breeze 
Bendeth the wood anemones, 

And all things seem’d to his heart to tell, 

Thou shalt ring again thy chapel bell. 

Then a man rode up to his lowly door, 

One he had never seen before, 

A low mean man, and his armour bright 
Look’d all too large for his frame so slight; 

But his eye was clear and his voice was sweet, 
And it made St. Betteline’s bosom beat 
As he spoke, and thus his greeting ran,— 

‘ In the name of the Holy Trinity, 

Hermit, I come to fight for thee.’ 

< Now Christ bless thee, thou little man,’ 

’Twas thus St. Betteline said, 

And he murmur’d, as meekly he bow’d his head, 

‘ The brightest sword may be stain’d with rust, 
The horse and his rider be flung to the dust, 
But in Christ alone I put my trust.’ 

D 


26 


BARTHOMLEY. 


And then to the lists together they hied, 

Where the king was seated in pomp and in pride, 
And the courtiers cried with a merry shout, 

* The hermit hath brought us a champion stout.’ 
But, hark! through the forest a trumpet rang, 
All harshly it rose with a dissonant clang ; 

It had a wild and unearthly tone, 

It seem’d by no Christian warrior blown, 

And into the lists came a giant form 
On a courser as black as a gathering storm; 

His vizor was clos’d, and no mortal sight 
E’er saw the face of this wondrous wight, 

But his red eye glow’d through that iron shroud, 
As the lightning doth rend a midnight cloud; 

So sable a knight and courser, I ween, 

In merry England never were seen ; 

A paynim knight he seem’d to be, 

Erom a Moorish country beyond the sea. 

Then loud laugh’d the giant as on he came 
With his armour bright and his eye of flame, 

And he look’d on his rival full scornfully, 

For he hardly came up to the giant’s knee; 

His vizor was up and it show’d to view 
His fair long hair and his eye of blue; 

Instead of a war-horse he did bestride 
A palfrey white which a girl might ride; 

But on his features there gleam’d the while 
That nameless grace and unearthly smile, 

Stem, yet as holy virgin’s faint, 

Which good old monks have lov’d to paint 
On the wan visage of a Soldier Saint. 

And his trumpet tone rung loud and clear 
With a thrilling sound on the ’wilder’d ear, 

And each bad man in his inmost heart, 

He knew not why, give a sudden start. 

The paynim had laugh’d with a scornful sound 
As he look’d for an easy prey, 

And he wheel’d his gallant courser round 
And address’d him to the fray. 

But what hath the dwarfish warrior done ? 

He hath sat like a warrior carv’d in stone, 

He moved not his head or his armed heel, 

He mov’d not his hand to grasp the steel. 

His long lance was pointing upwards still, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


27 


And the wind as it mov’d his banner at will 
Show’d work’d on the folds an image good, 

The spotless lamb and the holy rood. 

But men say that his stature so dwarfish and small, 

None could tell how, seem’d stately and tall, 

And all at once on his foe he turn’d 
A face that with hidden lustre burn’d; 

Ah! what aileth thee now, thou sable knight ? 

Hath that trumpet tone unnerv’d thee quite 
That the spear doth shake in thy hand for fear ? 

The courser is stopp’d in his wild career, 

And the rider is rolling afar on the ground ; 

His armour doth ring with a hollow sound, 

From the bars of his vizor a voice is heard, 

But no man could tell that fearful word, 

’Twas the cry of a fiend in agony, 

Then vanish’d from earth his steed and he; 

The black knight had fallen before the glance 
Of that angelic countenance. 

But how hath the angel vanish’d away ? 

Oh! how he went no mortal could say, 

But a wild shriek rung through the misty air, 

And each man said to his neighbour in fear 
‘ St. Michael hath smitten the fiend with his spear.’ ” 

Such is the “rhyme;” as a poetical production it needs no 
criticism; it is what it pretends to he, a rhyme; but, as a tissue 
of awful profaneness, it should have the strongest condemnation. 
To interweave the name of the Redeemer, and the circumstances 
of His temptation in the wilderness, and the Holy Trinity, and 
other things connected with the faith, into what is professedly 
“ a wild, and yet not unpleasing, fable,” with the view of giving 
to that fable the semblance and interest of truth , is, to my mind, 
a sad prostitution of talent, and of holy things. And I felt, in 
reading this “ romantic narrative,” that it was a weapon in the 
hands of one who would spare neither persons nor things, how¬ 
ever sacred, if, by any means, he might obtain his end the ex¬ 
altation of that church which he has lately joined. And so our 
Lord is made to figure in a fable, just as the gods of heathen 
mythology are made to act in many of those classical tales, 


28 


BARTHOMLEY. 


which serve for the amusement and instruction of hoys at 
school. Legends, I acknowledge, have had no prominent place 
in my education, and I hope never to read any more; neither 
should I have inserted this, but that it is well to know what 
stuff they are made of; and, therefore, we will continue it to the 
end, as wrought out for us by the Editor of “ the Lives of the 
English Saints.” 

“ Yet, after all, some facts are needed, to account for the honour in which 
St. Bettelin was held at Stafford. Those facts, however, are not found in 
history. We know little or nothing more, than that he was the patron of 
the town, where a church was built under his invocation. The fame of 
miracles would of course explain an increase of devotion shown to him 
there, could we once trace the circumstances which first introudced his 
name ecclesiastically into the place. 

Of these miracles wrought in his church, the record of one remains, ap¬ 
pended at a later date to the history of Prior Alexander, and its matter-of- 
fact tone curiously contrasts with the wild fable already related, which goes 
immediately before it. 

“ ‘ There was,’ says the anonymous writer, ‘ in the town of Stafford, a 
man named Wilmot, a cook by trade. This man, for many years, almost 
sixteen, had lost his sight, so as not to be able to go out of doors without 
some one to lead him. At length, after many years, he was brought to St. 
Bertellin’s Church, in the same town, for the purpose of recovery, and, while 
he knelt in prayer before the altar of St. Bertellin, and the priest, whose 
name was John Chrostias, offered up the Eucharist in the mass to the Su¬ 
preme Father, the aforementioned blind man regained his sight, and first 
saw that Venerable Sacrament, rendering thanks to the Supreme God, who 
had renewed His ancient miracles, for the love of blessed Bertellin. This 
miracle took place in the year of our Lord 1386.’ ” 

Here ends tliis legend—this nursery tale —credat Judccus! 
And is it not lamentable, that “ grave, and reverend signiors” 
should sit down, and seriously and studiously get up works like 
this; with the aim of edifying, not children only, but grown up 
persons, and of thus promoting the glory of their church ? Poor 
Editor, thy plight is pitiable indeed! floundering about in the 
midst of difficulties, to make thy legend gullible to the credu¬ 
lous taste of its readers! If Bollandus had not come, just in 
the nick of time, to the rescue, like St. Michael, in the “roman¬ 
tic narrative,” I know not how thou couldst have extricated 




BARTHOMLEY CHURCH , N . 



















. 




I 

' 










BARTIIOMLEY. 


29 


thyself from thy perplexities! He, however, settles the thing at 
once, by a marvellous specimen of sound reasoning:— 

“ Suppose,” says he, “ the very things were not done, yet greater things 
might have been done , and have been done at other times. Beware, then, 
of denying them on the ground that they could not, or ought not to have 
been done.”! 

No wonder that the Editor, having the fear of this warning 
before his eyes, closes his account of Bettelin with this sapient 
and submissive sentence of credulity:— 

“ And this is all that is known, and more than all,—yet nothing to what 
the angels know— of the life of a servant of God, who sinned and repented, 
and did penance and washed out his sins, and became a Saint, and reigns 
with Christ in heaven.” 

How well is the old proverb illustrated in this foul seducer, 
this murder-minded barber, Bertoline“ The greater the sin¬ 
ner, the greater the saint .” Be thankful, dear boy, that you 
belong not to a church where such lying wonders as these are 
credited, and hold fast to your first love . 1 


Yours, &c. 


LETTER VII. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

Having said good-bye to our Patron Saint, we will go to the 
Church, about which, when you quitted Barthomley, you were 

1 Harwood, in “Erdeswick’s Survey of Staffordshire,” p. 186, surmises that “the 
little parish of Beskswick, or Baswick, which takes its name probably from Bertie or 
Bertelin, the hermit of Stafford, is the place whither, perhaps, he retired, to end his 
days in solitude. In the old chartularies of St. Thomas’s priory it is written Ber- 
cleswick.” This surmise, however, accords not with what has been already stated 
from Ingulphus ; unless Bettellin died at Beskswick, and was buried at Croyland. 
The words of Ingulf are—“ On the right was the tomb of St. Cissa, priest and an¬ 
chorite, and the tomb of St. Bettellin, a man of God, and formerly the attendant up¬ 
on St. Guthlac.” [Church His., England, vol. ii, pt. ii, p. 598, Pre Reform, 
series.] 




30 


BARTHOMLEY. 


too young to know or care much. It is not a large edifice, and 
yet may be reckoned among the handsome churches of Cheshire. 
It is of several types of Gothic architecture, having been built 
at different periods. The chancel is the oldest part of it; 
probably erected about the reign of Edward I, having an Early 
English window in the east, very simple, but not ungraceful: a 
window of the same style has been blocked up in the noitli 
wall. The doorway, in a very mutilated state, has the relics of 
considerable beauty; it is formed of a semi-circular arch, with 
zigzag and embattled mouldings, resting on sculptured capitals 
of red stone. The roof was once an open and high gabled one, 
but its pitch was lowered when it was repaired. 

The chancel contains the graves of Sir Robert Fulleshurst, 
of whom a brief memoir has been given in a former letter; and 
of several Rectors and their wives, and of some members of the 
Lawton family. My parents lie side by side in a vault near 
the centre; and not far from them, on the north side, are 
the remains of my brothers, George and Charles, and of two 
of my own babes, John and Fanny . 1 Against the south wall, 


1 In consequence of the alabaster stone upon the grave of my parents being now 
covered with the flags of the floor of the new chancel, with my consent, I insert here 
the inscription upon it—rectifying a mistake of the engraver: — 

Edward Hinchliffe, 

Rector of this Parish, 

Died 18 th August, 1819 , aged 47 years. 


George and Charles, his sons, 

DIED YOUNG. 

John, died at Sierra Leone, 1820 , 
aged 19 . 

Henry Walter, died at Appleton, 

1837 , aged 34 . 

Elizabeth Sophia, 
died at Grappenhall, 1845 , aged 47 . 
Anne, relict of the above 
Rev. Edward Hinchliffe, died at Appleton, 
March 26 , 1850 , aged 84 years, and was 

BURIED IN THIS CHANCEL. 



BARTIIOMLEY. 


31 


within the communion rails, is the following inscription:— 

M. S. 

Marine uxoris dilectissims, 

Brian us Shaw— A.M. 

HUJUS ECCLESTS RECTOR 
BREVEM HANC TABELLAM 
DEMORTUS VIRTUTIBUS IMPAREM 
MCERENS POSUIT. 

OBIIT AUG. 28. 

169T. 

On a brass-plate, also affixed to the south wall of the chan¬ 
cel, is a memorial of Helen, wife of Zachary Cawdrey, Rector. 

The inscription runs thus:— 

Zacharias Cawdrey servus domini 

NOSTRI JESU CHRISTI, EVANGELISTA ET 
RECTOR ECCLESLE PAROCHIALIS DE BaR- 
THOMLEY IN COMITATU CESTRLE, FILIUS 

Zacharis Cawdrey evangelists et 

VICARII ECCLESIS PAROCHIALIS DE 

Melton Mowbray in comitatu 
Leicestrle, nepos Roberti Cawdrey, 
evangelists et rectoris ecclesis 

PAROCHIALIS DE NORTH LuFFENHAM 
IN COMITATU RUTLANDIS, HIC JUXTA 
DILECTISSIME CONJUGIS HELENS 

Cawdrey et charissimi alumni 
Johannis Crew (filii Johannis 
Crew de Crew armigeri) exuvias 

DEPOSITURUS EST SUAS SI DeUS 
VOLUERIT, LSTAM EXPECTANS EARUN- 
DEM RESURRECTIONEM ET RESTITUTIONEM. 

In mundo labor, 

IN TERRA QUIES 
IN CCELO GLORIA. 

Et deposuit xxi die Decem anno 
Domini 1684. 

From the chancel you pass beneath a wide and lofty arch into 
the body of the church, which consists of a nave and tw o aisles. 

The nave is handsome, high and well proportioned, with a 
richly carved oak roof, divided into square compartments, knot¬ 
ted at each corner with the arms of those who contributed to 


32 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


the erection of the fabric, and lighted by two rows of clerestory 
windows. At the western end a pointed arch, though not of the 
same magnitude as the eastern one, produces a very good effect, 
by presenting us with a view of the west window of the steeple, 
a fair specimen of the plain perpendicular Gothic. Oftentimes, 
through it, have I seen the setting sun cast a flood of purple 
light within the church, striking against one pillar and then 
another, as it gradually sunk to rest, and tinging and varying 
the shadows of the interior with a hue so glorious, and suited 
to the place, as to triumph over the splendours of the most 
richly stained glass. The aisles are parted from the nave by 
five pointed arches on each side of it, resting on clustered pil¬ 
lars with capitals of different pattern. 

The north aisle has, at the eastern end, a chancel belong¬ 
ing to Lord Crewe, enclosed with a late perpendicular oaken 
screen, along the cornice of which runs the emblematic vine. 
This screen has shared the fate which negligence and mis¬ 
chief commonly produce, and is sadly broken and disfigured. 
Within this chancel, in a canopied recess, in the north wall, is 
an alabaster altar tomb. On the slab which covers it lies the 
figure of an ecclesiastic, in his official robes, with clasped hands, 
and head resting upon a pillow supported by an angel. On 
that side of the tomb which is alone conspicuous, are six shields 
set within gothic compartments; from their uneven surface, 
it may be presumed that arms were once upon them, but they 
are now wholly effaced by the hand of time. The monument 
is supposed to be of Robert Fulleshurst, presented to the living, 
October 9, 1475; if so, it is the tomb of the last Roman 
Catholic Rector, who had virtual possession of the Church. I 
say virtual , because there is reason to believe that ever since 
the Reformation, and the consequent transferring of ecclesiasti¬ 
cal benefices to the Church as now established, a regular suc¬ 
cession of Incumbents of every old parish church in England, 
has been appointed and recorded by the Church of Rome. A 
late aggression elicited the fact of the existence of an Abbot of 


BARTHOMLEY. 


33 


Westminster, ready to preside over the old abbey, whensoever 
the present ecclesiastical polity is at an end—a consummation 
not only devoutly wished, hut thinly believed in, by every good 
Catholic. And so a Roman Catholic priest in Lancashire, 
pointing to the church at Winwick, told me that two Rectors 
claimed it and its appendages, the false and the real Simon 
Pure. Virtual, then, is no wrong term to use in speaking of 
the Rectors of Barthomley; there may be a nominal, and gener- 
ally unknown one, hidden in some snug recess, w T ho shall sally 
forth to wear the torn off shoes of the heretical Rector, when 
he shall be safely and comfortably burnt at the stake! Depend 
upon it, the Church of Rome is not made of yielding stuff; 
it will pertinaciously cling to what it calls its own, through ad¬ 
versity and prosperity; it will not concede an iota of the rights 
of which it asserts that it has been plundered; and, as a per¬ 
petual claim to them, it continues to appoint, where the ap¬ 
pointment is nothing but a form. Who can blame it ? Not I. 

To return from this digression. The tomb was concealed for 
many years; the arch was carefully bricked up, and the back of 
a pew was placed so as to cover it; strong symptoms of pre¬ 
caution !—probably against the maniac zeal of Puritans versus 
Popery. These turbulent religionists rushed onwards like a 
cloud of locusts, to darken and destroy. Many a noble and 
significant work of art became a prey to their madness; and 
a popish ecclesiastic in sacerdotal robes, though formed of a 
block of marble, could scarcely hope to escape their fury and 
demolition; and, therefore, in this instance, he was cunningly 
hid from sight. When the figure of my predecessor was dis¬ 
covered, the colour of his robes was still fresh; but, as it was 
covered with dust, the bricklayers,—before they announced to 
the Rector the fact of this “enfant trouvef —unhappily, thought 
right to wash it; and soap and water operated, according to cus¬ 
tom, in simultaneously removing both dirt and colour. When 
I last saw the figure, particles of scarlet still clung to its dress. 

The roof of this aisle is also of highly wrought oak, similar 

E 


u 


BABTHOMLEY. 


in style to that of the nave. On a corbel over the Crewe 
chancel, is the date, 1589, when Elizabeth was Queen. A nice 
old porch leads to the aisle, having an open archway for en¬ 
trance, on each side of which is a perpendicular niche. 

The south aisle has also its carved oak roof. On one of the 
intersections of the moulded ribs are religious symbols: the 
five wounds of Christ, the pierced hands and feet, and the 
speared heart. At the east end, a debased archway connects the 
aisle with the Crewe chapel; and here, in the south wall of the 
aisle, a small piscina denotes the situation of an altar, which, 
probably, placed against the wall, was taken down to make 
room for the aforementioned archway. The burial vaults of 
the Malbons, of Bradeley Hall, in the township of Haslington, 
are here; they were lineally descended from Hugh Malbanc, 
first baron of Nantwich; Malbon, as is easily seen, being a 
corruption of Malbanc. Ormerod informs us, that “ Bradeley 
Hall, with its demesne, was, for many centuries, the property and 
residence of the Malbons, and was granted by Joanna, daughter 
and co-heiress of William Malbanc, last baron of Nantwich, to 

her kinsman William Malbon.The estate was alienated 

about 1720, after which the Malbons removed from this neigh¬ 
bourhood, and terminated in an heir general, who married into 
the family of Bover, 1 about the middle of the last century. 
The estate is now, by a recent purchase, the property of John 
Ford, of Abbey-field, Esq. Like most of the old Cheshire 
mansions, Bradeley Hall is of timber and plaster, finished with 
gables and bay windows, and has been once moated, but it has 
now little to distinguished it from other farm houses.” 2 Some 
brasses on the floor of the aisle memorialize the deaths of— 

Sara, wife of Thos. Malbon, of Nantwich, Gent, 
who died Nov. 20, 1658. 

Thomas Malbon, of Bradeley, gent, died June 12, 1658. 

Elizabeth, second wife of George Malbon, of Bradeley, gent, 
died 27 th Sep., 1654. 

1 This heir general was my great grandmother on my mother’s side.—E. H. 

2 Vol. Ill, Ormerod’s Cheshire, p. 172. 



BAETHOMLEY, 


35 


Catherine, first wife of George Malbon, of Bradeley, gent. 
George Malbon, son and heir of George Malbon, of Bradeley, gent., 
died Oot. 27, 1708. 

Tlieir achievements were hanging upon the walls, over their 
graves, when I was young; dusky and ragged mementos of the 
departed; but, unfortunately, they were taken down without 
authority, and, as I am told, their sound and well-seasoned oak 
backs were applied to the repairs of the pigstye doors of the 
glebe farm ; “ Omnia mutantur et nos mutamur ab illis.” Since 
Ormerod wrote his account, a small brass plate has been disco¬ 
vered in the south wall, inscribed as follows:— 

“ Underneath lyeth buryed the bodie of Thomas Malbon of Brade¬ 
ley Gent one of y e Attorniyes before the Judges of Chester who 
departed this lyfe the 27 th day of June 1658.” 

On the same wall is a marble tablet, bearing these inscrip¬ 
tions :— 

Sacred to the memory of William Kelsall late of 

Hallawood. Gent, who died April 11. 1802. in the 

FIFTY-NINTH YEAR OF HIS AGE. AND LIES INTERRED IN A 
VAULT NEAR THIS CHURCH. 

also Elizabeth Relict of the said William Kelsall 

AND DAUGHTER OF FRANCIS AND ELIZABETH SPENCER OF 

Little Haywood, died, Feb ry 25 th . 1816. in the 73 rd 

YEAR OF HER AGE. & IS ALSO INTERRED IN THE SAME VAULT. 

And also one— 

To the Memory of 

Robert Hodgson Esq 1113 of Doddlespool 
Hall in this Parish who died on 
the 2 nd of September 1816 at the 
AGE OF 77 YEARS. 

This monument is with afeection 
rais’d by his surviving relatives 

WHO ESTEEMED HIS VIRTUES & WERE 
THE OBJECTS OF HIS REGARD. 

Also to the Memory of Matilda 

NIECE OF THE ABOVE ROBERT HoDGSON EsQ re 
WHO DIED AT DODDLESPOOL ON THE 9 Tn OF SEPTEMBER 1818 
AGED 57 YEARS. 


30 


BARTHOMLEY. 


On the wall, just where the south door once was, is a stone 
tablet— 

In memory of the Key. Edw. Hinchliffe. B.D. late Rector 
of this Parish, who died Aug. 18 th 1819, aged, 47 years, 
alas! my father! 

The font is a rude and massive specimen of red-stone, 
large enough for the immersion of an infant, and having an 
Elizabethan lid of oak. Its steps are the original ones; the 
shaft is modern, though of the first design. 

The chapel at the eastern part of the church was built by 
Sir Randulph Crewe, and is a luckless specimen of architectural 
taste, destroying the proportions of the church, and giving to 
it a new and unmeaning form; it is lighted by two large win¬ 
dows, of the debased Italian style introduced by some Italian 
architects about this period. Underneath is the Crewe family- 
vault, in which lie the remains of Sir Randulph Crewe, in a 
stone coffin, on the top of which is his effigy in stone. On each 
side the vault is a row of his descendants, of all ages; among 
these, John, first Baron Crewe, and John, second Baron. One 
vacant place alone remains. 

Attached to the south wall are two monuments; one of white 
marble, ornamented with arms and wreaths of flowers, and three 
armorial shields of the coat of Tumor, severally impaling, 
bearing on a shield of pretence, and quartering, Crewe:— 

Underneath 

LIETH 

THE BODY OF Mrs. AnNE CREWE, 

DAUGHTER OF THE LATE JOHN CREWE OF CREWE, 

reljct of John Offley of Madeley, Esq. 

AND MOTHER OF THE PRESENT 

John Crewe of Crewe, Esq. who died 
May the 15 th 1711. aged 62 years. 

This is the heiress who conveyed the Crewe-family estates in 
marriage to John Offley. In a lower compartment of the same 
monument is an inscription to the memory of her sister:— 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


37 


■*1 


Elizabeth, 

THE YONGER DAUGHTER OF JOHN CREWE OF CREWE, ESQ. 

WHO HAD CHILDREN ONLY BY HIS FIRST WIFE CAREW, 

THE DAUGHTER OF SlR ARTHUR GORGE OF CHELSEY IN Y E COUNTY 

of Middlesex, knt. and left no issue male; 
relict of Charles 

THE YONGEST SON OF SlR CHRISTOPHER TuRNOR, 

of Milton Erneys, in the county of Bedford, knt. 

AND SOMETIME ONE OF THE BARONS OF THE EXCHEQUER. 
PREPARED THIS MONUMENT TO BE ERECTED FOR A MEMORIAL OF 
HER HUSBAND, THEYR ONLY CHILD ELIZABETH, AND HERSELF : 

He dyed 13 th Aug. 1693, 

Thf.yr daughter 25 October 1694, 

She on the 20 th June 1696, 

AND THEYR BODIES ARE ENCLOSED 
IN THE VAULT BENEATH. 



On tlie other mural monument, ornamented with the arms of 
Crewe, impaling Price. Crewe; quarterly, 1 and 4, Crewe, Azure, 
a lion rampant Argent; 2, Crewe antient? Ermine, fretty gules; 
3, Offiey. On an inescocheon, Price, sable, a fesse Argent, be¬ 
tween three heads couped at the shoulders, entwined round 
each neck a snake Vert:— 

Beneath 

LIETH 

THE BODY OF JOHN CREWE, EsQ., OF CREWE, 
son of John Offley, Esq. 
of Madeley in the county of Stafford, 
who died August 26th 1749, 
aged 68, 

TO WHOSE MEMORY THIS MONUMENT 

WAS ERECTED BY SARAH HIS WIFE, 

WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE May 8 th 175], 

AGED 69, 

AND IS LIKEWISE HERE INTERRED. 

Strangers visiting the church often enquire, are there no 
monuments to Sir Randulph Crewe, and the first Baron Crewe? 
And the answer, Mo! somewhat surprises them. I am happy 
now to be able to say, that one at least is about to be erected, 
to Baron Crewe, by his grandson, the present Baron. 

Yours, &c. 



38 


BARTHOMLEY. 


LETTER VIII. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

Having gone through the body of the church, we will now 
proceed to the steeple. Labour and material have not been 
spared to make it a strong and enduring structure; the walls, 
of large blocks of red-stone, are extremely thick; and its 
base is so wide as to cause it to appear somewhat ill-propor¬ 
tioned and stumpy. Armorial shields, of the contributors to 
the building, are placed on the outside. The scythe, of Fulles- 
hurst, is conspicuous on one of them. Grotesque and cowled 
heads—mis-shapen figures—are dotted here and there, and ter¬ 
ribly distorted mouths vomit forth, from each corner at the 
top, the rain that falls upon it. A narrow winding staircase 
of stone leads to a ringing chamber, where, on an oaken tablet 
on the wall, were certain rules, drawn out by some village poet, 
for the observance of ringers:— 

“To BE OBSERVED,— 

If for to riDg you do come here, 

You must ring well with hand and ear. 

And if a hell you over throw, 

Fourpence you pay before you go. 

And if you ring in spur or hat, 

A gun of ale you pay for that! 

If to our laws you do consent, 

For you to ring we are content. 

Our laws are old, they are not new, 

Therefore, the clerk must have his due. 

1720. Mr. Thomas Wormall, Isaac Rowley, Church W. 

Renewed by 

Ralph Basford, Owen Bennion. 

Above is the belfry. Six uncommonly sweet-toned bells 
are here, having an inscription on each:— 

On the Treble or First Bell,—“John Crewe, Esq., Patron. A. 1743. 

On the Second,—“Joseph Crewe, Rector. A. 1743. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


39 


On the Third,—“Peace and good neighborhood attend this parish. A. 1743. 
On the Fourth,—“We were all cast at Gloucester, by Abel Rudhall. 1743. 

On the Fifth,—“Daniel Forde and Ralph Walley, Church-Wardens. A. ] 743. 

On the Sixth or Tenor,—“I to the church the living call, 

And to the grave do summons all. 

George Alsager and Abraham Meakin, Church Wardens. 1747.” 

This last bell having been broken was re-cast, which accounts 
for the difference of date. 

The justly merited fame of these musical bells has, at times, 
attracted ringing amateurs from a distance; and though the 
church is, as you are aware, close to the rectory, I never 
thought the sound of the hells too loud, and seldom refused the 
liberty of ringing them, to those who could perpetrate the mys¬ 
terious peals of “ grandsire hob treble,” &c., &c. On the con¬ 
trary, I have listened with pleasure to the many and beautiful 
changes rung by these men. A mile or two from the village, 
the tones, as they came wafted by the breeze, fell upon the ear 
with mixed melancholy and pleasure ; such as music will some¬ 
times produce. 1 

From Michaelmas to Lady-day, the Curfew-hell, at eight, 
“tolls the knell of parting day.” It was the office of the big 
bell to sound forth this; and when its deep-toned tongue had 
ceased, the little bell began to count out the day of the 
month; faithful monitor! reminding the villagers, before they 
retired to rest, that another portion of life was gone, and invit¬ 
ing them to self-examination, and penitence and prayer: for day 
succeedeth day, and night followeth after night, in sure and on¬ 
ward march towards eternity. What an evidence for history is 
that curfew-hell! An iron record of the truth of what is past! 
“Couvre feu,” is the etymology of curfew—“put out your fires.” 
This oppressive decree of the Conqueror has now no degradation 
or pain for us; rather, of self-gratulation; for, in truth, this 
curfew-hell is laden with the richest associations. It first tolled 

1 Napoleon I. was very susceptible of this,—“ Le son des cloches,” says Botir- 
rienne, “produisit sur Bonaparte un effet que je n’ai jamais su m’expliquer; il 
l’entendait avec dGices.” 


40 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


for English “slaves,” but how is it now? Through centuries 
it has spoken, amidst events which have stirred the nation to 
its very depths; it has witnessed, from reign to reign, the bud¬ 
ding forth and ripening of the liberties we at present enjoy. 
And now, its iron tongue calls aloud to freemen ,— “ ye are free; 
but, from the experience of the past, hold and use your free¬ 
dom wisely, for the benefit of all!” 

In addition to the curfew-bell, another was annually tolled on 
Shrove Tuesday—very significantly denominated, in this neigh¬ 
bourhood, “ Guttit Tuesday” It was rung at 11 a.m., in days 
of Popery, to summon the parishioners to shrift; now, to tell 
the housewives to begin to fry their pancakes; for, at the hour 
of twelve there will be a hurrying, from the fields and yards, of 
some hungry agriculturalists, who will make short work, even 
of much. And a marvellous sight it was to see the stack of 
pancakes before the fire, substantial and hot, and ready for the 
destructives! 

The view from the top of the steeple forms a pretty panora¬ 
ma of the surrounding country, and will well repay the toil of 
clambering up the stone steps to see it. The steeple was the 
scene of a dreadful massacre, an account of which I shall give 
from Burghall’s Diary. 1 Burgliall was the puritan vicar of 
Acton, near Nantwich,—he writes:— 

“The enemy, (i. e. the royalists,) now drawing nearer to the town 
(Nantwich), spread themselves into Stoke, Hurleston, Brindley, Wrenbury, 
and all the country about, robbing and plundering every where; till 
December 22, ‘ (1643,)’ they passed over the river to Audlem, Hankelow, 
Buerton, Hatherton, and on Saturday they came to Barthomley (giving an 
alarm to the garrison of Crewe Hall); as they marched they set upon the 
church, which had in it about twenty neighbors, that had gone in for safety; 
but the lord Byron’s troop, and Connought, a major to Colonel Sneyd, set upon 
them, and won the church; the men fled into the steeple, but the enemy 
burning the forms, rushes, mats, &c , made such a smoke, that being almost 
stifled, they called for quarter, which was granted by Connought; but when 
they had them in their power, they stripped them all naked, and most cruelly 

1 Edward Burghall’s “ Providence Improved,” written 1628—63, and published 
at Chester, 1778. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


41 


murdered twelve of them, contrary to the laws of arms, nature, and nations. 
Connought cut the throat of Mr. John Fowler, a hopeful young man, and a 
minor, and only three of them escaped miraculously, the rest being cruelly 
wounded. Christmas-day, and the day after, they plundered Barthomley, 
Crewe, Haslington, and Sandbach, of goods and cloaths, and stripped naked 
both men and women.” 

N.B. This was one of the articles entered against King Charles, had he 
pleaded when brought to judgment at Whitehall. 

The king did not plead; and the massacre of Barthomley 
was thereby deprived of a page in the general history of Eng¬ 
land, and of a wider-spread celebrity. This account of Burghall 
must, I think, be received with considerable suspicion; he 
was so notorious a partizan that, October 3rd, 1662, he was 
deprived of the vicarage of Acton. His strong puritanical bias 
might easily lead him to suppress a part of the truth, or, at 
least, not to make a sufficient enquiry into it. 

It seems strange that twenty, men only; no women, no chil¬ 
dren ; should take alarm at the approach of the king’s troops, 
and flee for refuge into the church; why, of all the neighbours, 
had they so much cause to fear? Now, from some expressions 
in the diary, I collect that these twenty men were armed. Bur¬ 
ghall says that Connought and the troop (( set upon them , and won 
the church; here is “a conflict , and a victory ,” if words mean 
anything; and it is ridiculous to suppose that unarmed men will 
wage unequal war with armed. Chance enables me, I believe, 
to throw some light upon this subject. There lived in our 
parish an aged man, Daniel Stringer by name, who, in 1839, had 
reached his 97th year; he was born, therefore, in 1743; but I 
will quote from my diary of 1839 :— 

“April 19th. Walked to Daniel Stringer’s, who informed 

me of a historical fact relating to my village.”.“The son 

of the Rector fired from the steeple upon the troops march¬ 
ing past, and killed one of them; this so irritated the others, 
that they revenged his death by butchering many within the 
church.” Our conversation had been of days of “auld lang 
syne,” of which he was fond of talking; and, in the course 
of it, I happened to advert to this massacre, expressing my 

F 



42 


BARTHOMLEY. 


surprise and horror at an atrocity so unprovoked and wanton, 
this drew from him the explanation given, which, he stated, 
he had received from his father, whose grandfather was one of 
those very men who escaped from the slaughter. 1743 was the 
year of this old man’s birth—1643 the year of the massacre; 
a period of 100 years, easily filled up by the three generations. 

As an additional strength to Daniel’s tradition, I may men¬ 
tion, that he had never heard of “ Burghall s Diary, nor did 
he know the name of the Rector whose son fired upon the 
troops; but turn to Burghall, and you will find that the only 
person’s name specified by him as one of the murdered is 
“John Fowler;” turn to the list of Rectors, and the date of 
their incumbencies, and you will find that the then Rector 
was Richard Fowler, whose sympathies were well known to 
be with the Puritans. This, to my mind, unmistakably proves 
that Burghall’s “John Fowler,” and Stringer’s i( Rector’s son,” 
are one and the same; and, if this be so, we have quite enough 
to explain the whole affair: “why” the church was attacked, 
and “why” Connought singled out John Fowler for the victim 
of his own sword. He was the man who fired the shot which 
brought down upon the heads of these “ neighbors” the unre¬ 
lenting vengeance of the soldiers. In any other view, the his¬ 
tory is one of unmitigated, undeserved barbarity, and quite in¬ 
explicable to me. A cunning simplicity pervades Burghall’s 
account, which is highly calculated to keep examination quiet, 
and awaken sympathy for his suffering party; for instance, he 
drops, as it were carelessly, a passing.remark on John Fowler, 
which, no doubt, was intended to claim more than ordinary 
pity for his fate—“ a hopeful young man and a minor,” —two 
circumstances which could not have been known to the “enemy,” 
and could not aggravate their offence, though a catching clap¬ 
trap for the indignant sympathy of unwary readers. 

We now come to the Rectors, a list of whom I take from Or- 
merod’s History of Cheshire, 1 adding to it the names of others 
appointed since the publication of that noble work:— 
i Yol. 3, page 164. 


BARTHOMLEY 


43 


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44 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


The first named Rector, Robertus de Cliissulle, had the 
honor of being presented to the living by Edward the first 
Prince of Wales, afterwards Edward II of England, in right of 
the patron, a minor; thus two sons of kings have been con¬ 
nected with our retired and humble parish—Bertoline, the 
Patron Saint, and Edward. We will plume ourselves a little 
on this; for we have no reason to boast of any fame to Bar- 
thomley from this list of Rectors. They all have travelled a 
jog-trot pace along the via media of life, unknown beyond the 
precincts of their neighbourhood, or the field of their labors; 
excepting Zachary Cawdrey. But, before I speak of him, I must 
give a very unenviable notice of Elcocke, which Mr. Jones, of 
Nantwich, has lately sent me :— 

“ 1586.” In this year the parishioners of Barthomley pre¬ 
ferred numerous complaints against their Parson, Sir Thomas 
Elcocke, (inter aliaj “that he greatly abused his Parishioners, 
and patron 1 of the church, and that his curate, Sir Robert 
Andrew, was a brawler and a drunkard, and was so drunk re¬ 
turning from Nantwich, that had it not been for Robert Lunt 
and Robert Yardley drawing him out of the water, he had been 
in danger of his life.” 2 

Of Zachary Cawdrey, Nichols writes:—“Zachary, son of 
Zach. Cawdrey, Yicar of Melton Mowbray, was born at Melton 
about 1616; and, when of fitting age, educated, for seven years, 
in the Free-school there, under the then master thereof, Mr. 
Humphrey. At sixteen he was sent thence to St.John’s college, 
Cambridge, where he was admitted sub or proper sizar to the 
then master, Dr. Humphrey Gower; where he had for his tutor 
Mr. Masterson, at that time one of the Fellows there. He went 
out M.A. in the same University, in 1642, but is not registered 
among the graduates,” 3 He was author of— 

“ A Discourse of Patronage, being a modest Enquiry into the Original 
of it, and a further Prosecution of the History of it. With a true Account 
of the Original and .Rise of Vicarages, and a Proposal for enlarging their 
Revenues; also an humble Supplication to the pious Nobility and Gentry, to 
endeavour the Prevention of the Abuses of that honorary Trust of Patronage; 

1 Sir Christopher Hatton. 

2 They had been attending a Visitation at Nantwich, Lunt and Yardley being 

Churchwardens. 3 Vol. ii, Nichols’ Leicestershire, p. 259. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


45 


with a Proposal of some Expedients for the regulating it, most agreeable to 
the Primitive Pattern, wherein at once the just Rights of Patrons are secured 
and the People’s Liberty of Election of their own Ministers in a great measure 
indulged. By Zachary Cawdrey, Rector of Barthomly in Cheshire, 1675.” 

An interminable subject, even to this day, and without result! 
A reform of patronage is, indeed, most needed, but how to be 
effected is past my comprehension, and, certainly, not brought 
about by the proposals of Zachary Cawdrey. Never having met 
with his discourse, I can say nothing about it; if it be as prolix 
as its title, I shall be content to remain in ignorance. In 
“Watts’ Bibliotheca Britannica,” I find mention, too, of the 
publication of a “ Funeral Sermon of Lord Delamere, from Bev. 
xiv, 13,—1684, 4to.” and from No. 198, vol. viii, of “Notes 
and Queries,” a publication which has done the republic of 
letters much and valuable service, I learn that our Bector was 
also the author of another work:— 

“A Preparation for Martyrdom; a Discourse about the Cause, the Temper, 
the Assistances, and Rewards of a Martyr of Jesus Christ: in Dialogue be¬ 
twixt a Minister and a Gentleman his Parishioner.” Lond. 168.1, 4to. 

The question put, in “Notes and Queries,” was, “Can any of 
your correspondents discover for me the author of the follow¬ 
ing work ?” giving the above title of it. This elicited the fol¬ 
lowing interesting reply:— 

“ In order to afford somewhat of a clue to this discovery, I send a few ex¬ 
tracts from another anonymous work: A letter to the late Author of the 
‘ Preparation for Martyrdom ,’ alluding to various circumstances relating to 
the author :—‘ I must confess that I had once as great a veneration for you 
as for any one [ofj your figure in the church; but then you preach’d honest¬ 
ly, and liv’d peaceably: but since pride or ambitious discontent, or some 
particular respects to some special friends of the adverse party, or something 
I know not what else, has thrust you upon scribbling, and a design of being 
popular: since you had forsaken your first-love (if ever you had any,) to our 
church and establishment, and appear to be running over ad partem Donati, 
to the disturbers of our church and peace, you must needs pardon this short 
reflection, though from an old friend, and sometimes a great admirer of you.’ 

‘As for the present establishment, you have (you conclude) as much al¬ 
ready from that as you are likely to have, but you claw the democratical party, 
hoping, at long run, to see an (English) Parliament; that is, we must know, 
one that has no French pensioners shuffled into it to blast the whole busi- 


46 


BARTHOMLEY. 


ness, such as will he govern'd by your instructions; and then Presbytery 
(you trust) will be turn’d up Trump, the Directory once more take place of 
the Liturgy, and God knows what become of the Monarchy, and Mr. 0. be 
made a great man.’ 

‘ What an excellent design was that of your Stipulation, which I heard 
one say was like a new modell’d Independency. ‘Twas intended, I sup¬ 
pose, as an expedient to reduce the sheep of your own flock, which 
through your default chiefly (as is commonly reported,) were gone as¬ 
tray; but because this tool could not work, without the force of a law to 
move it, therefore by law it must have been establisht, and the whole nation 
forsooth comprehended under it, and all must have set their instruments to 
your key, and their voices to the tune of B — ley. Oh! had this engine but 
met with firm footings in Parliament, as was hoped, our English world had 
been lifted off its pillars long before this day; it had gone round, and in the 
church all old things had been done away, and everything had appeared 
new. But, Sir, I trust the foundations of our church stand more sure than 
to need such silly props as your Catholicon (as you vainly call it,) to sup¬ 
port ‘em.’ 

* What an excellent thing, too, is your book of Patronage ? ‘Twere no 
living for Simon Magus , or any of his disciples here, if those rules you there 
lay down were but duly attended to.’ 

‘But in those two books you showed yourself pragmatical only; but 
in this of Martyrdom , not a little impious, in your unworthy reflections 
upon almost all the honest people of England since the beginning of 
the reign of Oliver the First, and some time before; not sparing many 
loyal worthies’ memory, who held up a good cause upon their sword 
points (as you express it,) as long as they could; and, when they could 
do so no longer, either dy’d for’t, or deliver’d themselves up to the will 
of the conqueror, yet never (as you) abjur’d the cause. Our rulers, you 
suppose, are ill affected; (otherwise your talk of Popery at your rate is 
like that of one that were desirous and in conspiracy to bring in Popery,) 
and, undoubtedly, it had been in already, had not the prayers of Mr. C., and 
the fifty righteous Non-cons in every city, prevented it.’ ‘ Alieus.’ ” Dublin. 

“ [The Preparation for Martyrdom is not to be found either in the Bod¬ 
leian or British Museum Catalogues. The author of the Letter in reply to it, 
however, has afforded a clue to its authorship. Zachary Cawdrey, who ap¬ 
pears to have been an admirer of the Vicar of Bray, was Hector of Barthom- 
ley in Cheshire, during the Commonwealth, and for fourteen year s after the 
Bestoration; this explains the hint in the Letter ‘of setting their voices to 
the tune of B — ley.’]” 

We have thus stumbled upon what is not very creditable to 
the Kector, who, however, if he was no better,’ was certainly 
not worse than thousands of his neighbours, who, in his days, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


47 


were afflicted with a kind of teetotum epidemic, which set them 
turning about all ways. 

Walter Offley (.Rector 1704-21) was the son of a younger 
brother of John Offley, of Madeley; he was likewise rector of 
Mucklestone, and prebendary of Lichfield, and, 1718, dean of 
Chester; hut whether this latter dignity was conferred on him 
through political influence, or on account of merit, I know not. 

I cannot omit speaking, too, of another Rector, (who was also 
rector of Warmincham,) Charles Crewe : nearer my own time; 
and of whom many traditions are kept afloat to this day in the 
parish. He lived in the dormant age of our church, when reli¬ 
gious duties were well-nigh absorbed by the temporalities of life. 
Country society was at a low ebb; the coarse sallies of (so-called) 
wit, and the convivial and drunken habits of Squire Westerns , 
were its pollution and disgrace; alas! too often shared in by those 
who ought to have set their faces, like a flint, against such ini¬ 
quities. It was his misfortune to live at this period, and he was 
suited to it, and he had the respect of his neighbours and pa¬ 
rishioners. His official duties were confined to the reading of 
the prayers at church, and one sermon on the Sunday, with oc¬ 
casional private baptisms, marriages, and burials. He kept a 
small pack of harriers, the delight of the neighbourhood. On 
the day of hunting, a horn was sounded, about nine in the morn¬ 
ing, in the stable yard of the rectory; hither the neighbours, 
with long jumping poles in their hands, hastened, and found 
the master of the hounds, mounted on a strong and active cob, 
ready for the sport. They would sally forth, have their run, 
and return, with or without hare, at one, for dinner. 

The coal-drawing was often talked over in the parish, and 
its great doings canvassed; some are living now who shared 
in them. The coal-pits, at Audley, are about three miles from 
Barthomley. Twice in the year the farmers gratuitously un¬ 
dertook to draw from them coals for the Rector. In the 
middle of the night a string of carts and horses started for 
these pits, and about mid-day returned, followed by a band 


48 


BARTHOMLEY. 


of dusky colliers, for whom and the drivers of the carts a din¬ 
ner was provided at the rectory: all was prompted by mutual 
good-will, but generally ended in intemperance and riot. 

Charles Crewe was a popular man, and at his death he was 
much regretted. If he did not take the high view of the min¬ 
istry which happily prevails now, it was a part and parcel of his 
times he was as others were; he saw with the same eyes as 
they, and did as they did. It can be said of him, at the same 
time, that he had great kindness of heart, and liberally pro¬ 
moted the comforts and enjoyments of his people. 

Charles Crewe was the author of two treatises, printed by 
James Smith, of Newcastle, 1790. One, in defence of Chris¬ 
tianity against Unitarianism, entitled: 

“ Christianity, an Appeal to the reason of Mankind, written in opposition 
to some late Blasphemous Tenets, maintained by the Anti-christian Free- 
Thinkers of these Times.” 

The other, in opposition to the attempt of Dissenters to ob¬ 
tain a repeal of the Test Act, entitled:— 

“ Animadversions on the late attempt of the Dissenters to obtain a repeal 
of the Test Act; occasioned by a perusal of the debates of some of the Hon¬ 
ourable House of Commons, March the 2nd, 1790. With remarks upon a 
letter written by Mr. F., a Dissenter, to the Chairman of the B. Committee, 
Lancashire.” 

Neither of these treatises have been thought worthy of being 
referred to as standard works of authority; nevertheless, they 
evince a vigorous understanding in the author; sound argu¬ 
ment, quaintly and desultorily expressed, and a considerable 
and varied amount of learning. 

1 “The propensity of the clergy to follow the secular pastimes, and especially 
those of hunting and hawking, is frequently reprobated by the poets and moralists of 
former times. Chaucer, in his Canterbury Tales, makes the monk much better 
skilled in riding and hunting, than in divinity. The same poet, afterwards, in the 
Ploughman’s Tale, takes occasion to accuse the monks of pride, because they rode 
on coursers like knights, having their hawks and hounds with them. In the same 
tale he severely reproaches the priests for their dissolute manners, saying, that 
many of them thought more upon hunting with their dogs, and blowing the horn, 
than of the service they owed to God.”— Strutt's Sports and Pastimes. 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


49 


His doctrinal views were clear and evangelical, in the proper 
sense of that term; though his opinions are accompanied with 
a grievous lack of charity towards dissenters; an unchristian 
feeling not wholly subdued in some of our own times. 

His Animadversions may now be considered curious relics 
of an effete controversy. The “Test Act” has, happily, expired 
—peace to its manes; nor has it, Samson-like, in its end drawn 
down destruction upon the church; anticipated evils from the 
repeal are negatived by fact, and the sooner the church gets rid 
of all carnal policy and props for its support, the firmer will 
its continuance be. The cry so perseveringly raised, of 4 the 
Church in danger’, by one generation of nervous temporalitists 
after another, makes one wonder that any one is content to be¬ 
long to an institution so precarious. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER IX. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

am now about to write to you of your own family, 
from the circumstance of your grandfather having 
once been Rector of this parish. This is not be¬ 
yond my plan, as you will see from my first letter, 
wherein I stated my purpose of bringing under notice persons 
distantly connected with Bartliomley. And do not suppose that 
pride of lineage induces me to speak of your immediate ances¬ 
try ; my motive for it is the wish to shew you that self-reli¬ 
ance, well-directed industry, and good conduct, will generally 
meet with their reward in this our country. Felton has an 
admirable and very eloquent passage touching the extraordinary 
elevation of some; and in no country are such instances more 
frequent than in our own, where the spirit of liberty breathes 
on its constitution, and nourishes and strengthens every well- 
formed effort to progress : he exclaims—“ With what a scornful 



G 








50 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


disregard of wealth, and the position of the moment, Almighty 
God scatters priceless gifts of genius among his children!— 
The great poet—the illustrious statesman—the eloquent orator, 
is as likely to go from the brown-faced labourer’s cottage over 
the way, as from the sumptuous palaces of the capital. The 
future ruler of the empire may be unconsciously digging in 
yonder field, and that very school may be, under God, the ap¬ 
pointed means of revealing an unsuspected destiny to him and 
the world.” The Houses of Lords and Commons—the estab¬ 
lished church—the courts of law—have many proofs of this; 
for every grade of society in our land has sent forth some to 
fill the highest stations which the state, the church, or the bar 
can offer, and who have increased the lustre of their country’s 
fame. 

Your grandfather was the third son of one, who, by his own 
exertions, under God, was raised to the episcopal bench. I will 
endeavour to give you, from very scanty materials, a short me¬ 
moir of the Bishop. The name of Hinchliffe is not common, 
though not unfrequently met with in the county of York, spelt 
in several ways. I will here mention two circumstances which 
somewhat wounded my amour propre a few years ago. I 
was entering into Leeds, and one of the first things which 
caught my eye was a barber’s pole, projecting with its riband¬ 
like and emblematic stripes from the wall of a house, under 
whose shadow was a notice, that one “ Hinchliffe,” hair-dresser 
and shaver, was ready to operate upon the heads and chins of 
her majesty’s lieges. This smart was not diminished, when, at 
the inn, I took up the county paper, and read that a scelerat, 
of my name, was, at the last quarter sessions, transported for 
seven years! 

The family of Bishop Hinchliffe was originally of Saxony; a 
member of it, leaving his own country, came to London, and 
settled there, in the silk trade. After no little research, I 
find that he had two sons; the eldest was father of Thomas 
Hinchliffe, of Billcliffe, Yorkshire, an estate probably pur- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


51 


chased by him, as he was once a prosperous silk-mercer in 
one of the streets near Covent Garden, and whose only daugh¬ 
ter, Dorothy, married Sir Robert Ralph Foley, Bart., of Hal- 
sted Place, in the county of Kent, who was of the family of the 
Foleys in Worcestershire, of which Thomas Foley was created 
Baron of Kidderminster, in Worcestershire, Dec. 31, 1711, 10 
Queen Anne. Sir Robert was second son of Philip Foley, of 
Prestwood, in the county of Stafford, Esq. He was advanced 
to the dignity of a baronet of Great Britain, by letters patent 
dated June 27, 1707. The youngest, also in the silk trade, 
had, I believe, several children: a son, Joseph, became the pro¬ 
prietor of extensive livery stables in Swallow-street, married 
and had nine children, all of whom, but the subject of this 
memoir and two sisters, died young. I find, also, that George 
Brydges Granville, Esq., of Chester, married a Miss Hinchliffe 
eldest daughter of Thomas Hinchliffe, a London merchant, 
whose father, Thomas Hinchliffe, married Frances, daughter of 
Marshall Brydges, third son of Marshall Brydges, Esq., of Ti- 
berton Court, Herefordshire, who was fellow of All Souls’ col- 
lege, Oxford, and chancellor and residentiary of Wells’ cathe¬ 
dral. This Miss Hinchliff has her name spelt without an “ e 
her son, however, informs me that his great grandfather’s name 
was spelt with an e, and he supposes that his family was the 
same as ours. 

John Hinchliffe, the subject of this memoir, was early sent 
to Westminster school, where the seed of his future prosperity 
was sown. Westminster school was then in the foremost rank 
of the public schools of England, and was crowded with the 
children of the aristocracy. Acquaintances and friendships were 
sometimes formed there, which, in coming time, proved to be 
of use to many of humbler birth; and so it was with my grand¬ 
father. At school he appears to have been of a studious and 
diligent turn. A.D. 1746 he was admitted into St. Peter’s col¬ 
lege, at fourteen years of age; the election of king’s scholars not 
depending on interest, but simply on the merits of the candi- 


52 


BARTHOMLEY. 


date. In 1747 we find him one of the Dramatis Persona, who 
distinguished themselves so much in the performance of the 
“ Ignoramus” of Terence; a comedy which seems to be pecu¬ 
liarly adapted to draw out the histrionic powers of the per¬ 
formers, for in 1730 the audience requested it to be played four 
instead of three times, on which occasions, says Hawkins, Ig¬ 
noramus, 1787, pp. 86-88:—“The part of Ignoramus was so 
admirably sustained by Mr. Lewis, that he was ever after known 
to his acquaintance by the designation of Ignoramus Lewis.” 
Again, in 1747, the same request for a fourth performance was 
made. Hawkins says:—“The days of performance, in 1747, 
happening too near the Christmas vacation to permit a fourth 
representation before Christmas, the scenes were left standing 
during the holidays, and in January following the play was 
acted for the fourth time. The cast of characters, as taken from 
Alumni Westmonasteriensis. p. 347, 1852, is as follows:— 

“ Ignoramus. —H. Boyle, afterwards Earl of Orrery. 

“ Dulman. —M. Lewis, afterwards Vicar of East Garton. 

“ Musceus. —P. Gould, afterwards Lieut.-Colonel. 

“ Pecus. —T. Buck. 

“ Theodorus. —R. Barnes, afterwards Can. Res., Exeter. 

“ Dorothea. —W. Selwyn, now one of liis Majesty’s Counsel. 

“ Antonius. —T. Locke, afterwards brother-in-law of Lord Courtenay and 
Usher of Westminster school. 

“ Trico. —J. Warren, afterwards Archdeacon of Worcester. 

“ Bannacr. —R. James, afterwards Vicar of Kington Magna? 

“ Cupes. —W. Waller, afterwards a Barrister-at-law, now lately deceased. 

“ Pollia. —P. Eurye, afterwards a Clerk in the Pay Office. 

“ Cola. —W. Sellon, now Minister of St. James’s, Clerkenwell. 

“ Torcol. —J. Marsden, now Preb. York, 

“ Rosabella —G. Hobart, brother of the Earl of Buckinghamshire. 

“ Surda. —P. Duval, afterwards Preb. Wore., and Canon, Windsor. 

“ Tyropus. —J. Hinchliffe, now Lord Bp. of Peterborough. 

“ Nauta. —D. Skipton, afterwards Vicar of Willen. 

“ Caupo. —R. James, above-mentioned.” 

The part which young Hinchliffe played was not a leading 
one, but all seemed to have acted well, and, I dare say, that to 
his preparation for these performances may be attributed the 
clear and flexible elocution, which distinguished him above 


BA.RTHOMLEY. 


53 


others as a preacher. In 1750 he was elected to Trinity Col¬ 
lege, Cambridge. He graduated as B.A. in 1754, and his name 
will be found among the Junior Optimes of that year. Imme¬ 
diately afterwards he was appointed an usher of Westminster 
school, a proof that his attainments, though not prominently 
distinguishing him at the University, were yet so far recognized 
as to procure him a situation in which no little learning was 
required, and which he retained for seven years. In 1757 lie 
took the degree of M.A., and in 1760 v r as appointed tutor to 
Mr. Crewe, of Crewe Hall, Cheshire, an old Westminster and a 
minor, and accompanied him abroad, where he had ample room 
and opportunity for the cultivation of his taste for the fine arts, 
and especially for pictures, of which he was not only passion¬ 
ately fond, but an excellent connoisseur. 1 

X When the two travellers were at Venice, and lionizing the town, they chanced to 
see a little man making a sketch of the Campanile, in St. Mark’s place: Hinchliffe 
took the liberty—not an offensive one abroad, as I myself can testify,—to look at 
what he was doing. Straightway he discovered a master-hand, and hazarded the 
artist’s name, “ Canaletti.” The man looked up and replied, “ mi conosce.” There¬ 
upon a conversation ensued, and Canaletti, pleased to find so enthusiastic a judge of 
drawing, invited Hinchliffe to his studio, who waited upon him there on the following 
day, and inspected his paintings and drawings. The visit terminated most agree¬ 
ably to the traveller. Having requested Canaletti to allow him to purchase the 
painting about to be made from the sketch he had seen the artist take, Canaletti not 
only agreed to this, but, in addition, presented him with the sketch itself, as a com¬ 
plimentary gift; and a very valuable one my grandfather esteemed it, and so did his 
eldest son, at whose death it became the property of the present Lord Crewe, by pur¬ 
chase, and is now at Crewe Hall. It is a beautiful pen and ink drawing, and, being 
rare, is, of course, not a little precious. And, now we are talking of Canaletti, let me 
add, that my grandfather had another very valuable picture of his, -‘‘Whitehall. 
This painting Canaletti, while in England, refused to sell; he wished to keep it as a 
memento of his visit to our country: the view which it presents, was from the garret 
of a little shop on the site of what is now the corner house of Richmond Terrace, 
and in which humble apartment the great painter lived during his stay in London. 
The date of the picture may be known by the representation of the scaffolding erected 
for the building of the first house in Parliament-street, on the Downing-street side. 
In this picture there is a view of the old Gateway, which divided the precincts of the 
Court of Whitehall from the rest of the City of Westminster,-that gateway no longer 
exists—and of the Banqueting House, now Whitehall Chapel and of the Duke of 
Buccleugh’s House. The picture was sold not many years ago to the Duke of Buc- 
cleugh. Mr. Crewe bought the picture at Venice, from Canaletti himself, and gave 
it to my grandfather in exchange for a large battle piece, now at Crewe Hall. 


54 


BARTHOMLEY. 


On the return of the travellers to England, Mr. Crewe, then of 
age, settled upon his Tutor an annuity of £300; a very hand¬ 
some and flattering mark of his esteem. Whilst travelling with 
him Hinchlifle had the honour to make the acquaintance of the 
Duke of Grafton, who became his friend and patron through the 
remainder of his life; in 1764 he was advanced, by the Duke, to 
the Head-mastership of Westminster school, but, after a few 
months, the state of his health obliged him to resign it: on that 
appointment he graduated D.D. by royal letters. He then be¬ 
came tutor to the Duke of Devonshire, for two years,—a little 
circumstance, thought worthy of being mentioned by C. J. Fox, 
in a letter to Lord Macartney:—“Our friend Hinchlifle is tutor 
to the Duke of Devonshire, by which he has £600 a year.” 1 
He afterwards resided with his grace as chaplain. He was also 
appointed one of the chaplains in ordinary to George III., and 
in 1766 was presented to the vicarage of Greenwich, which he 
held for about three years. Whilst Vicar of Greenwich, his mar¬ 
riage with Elizabeth, the second sister of his quondam pupil 
Crewe, took place. Her mother—as mothers, who look for 
great things for their daughters, sometimes do—opposed the 
marriage at first, and afterwards yielded her consent. It appears, 
however, to have been very grateful to Mr. Crewe, who took a 
substantial way of expressing his satisfaction, by largely in¬ 
creasing his sister’s fortune. He was offered the tutorship of the 
Prince of Wales, afterwards George IV., but this he declined, 
being one of the king’s, and Dr. Johnson’s, horrors—a Wliig; 
and feeling that his political principles might sometimes bring 
him into disagreeable contact with his Sovereign, he sacrificed 
future prospects to a wise discretion. 

He became Master of Trinity college, Cambridge, Feby. 9, 
1768, and in that year was chosen Vice-Chancellor of the Uni¬ 
versity. He took an immediate and active part (1769,) in pro¬ 
moting a most useful scheme for the new-paving, watching, and 
lighting the town of Cambridge, than which no large town in 

1 Memoirs and Correspondence of C. J. Fox. Yol. i. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


55 


the kingdom, at that time, so greatly needed it; which, how¬ 
ever, met with many “ petty objections and jealousies, discord¬ 
ant and jarring interests,” obstructing the progress of the mea¬ 
sure at the very moment of its being carried into the House of 
Commons; but, it is stated, the design was eventually carried 
out “ greatly to the satisfaction of all parties.” 

William, Duke of Gloucester, whilst at the University, re¬ 
sided in Dr. Hincliliffe’s house, and ever afterwards kept up a 
close friendship with the family. 

He was appointed to the Bishopric of Peterborough, Dec. 9th, 
1769, and his Consecration took place on Sunday, Dec. 17th, 
in Lambeth Chapel, the sermon, 1 on the occasion, being preached 
by that learned and eminent divine Dr. Lort, well known, at 
that time, to the literati of this and other countries, as a man 
of learning, and a collector of curious and valuable books. 

Bishop Hinchliffe performed the service at the funeral (Nov. 
6, 1783,) of the Rev. Stephen Whisson, a man greatly esteemed 
for his amiability and learning, and late senior Fellow of Trini¬ 
ty college, and University librarian. 2 

1 “A Sermon, preached in Lamheth Chapel, at the Consecration of the Right 
Rev. Father in God John Hinchliffe, D.D., Lord Bishop of Peterborough, on Sun¬ 
day, Dec. 17th, 1769,” by the Rev. Michael Lort, D.D., printed at Cambridge, 1770. 

2 “Died Nov. 3, 1783. Mr. Whisson’s remains were interred in Trinity Chapel; 
the Bishop of Peterborough, Dr. Hinchliffe (Master of Trinity,) performed the fu¬ 
neral service; the six senior Fellows supported the pall; Dr. Watson, Bishop of 
Llandaff, followed the corpse; after him all the Fellows and Fellow-Commoners 
with hat-bands and gloves; next the Bachelors and Under-graduates, two and two, 
each had a pair of white gloves, and bore a sprig of rosemary. The corpse lay in 
the hall publicly exposed for three hours before the funeral; and copies of verses, 
written by the Under-graduates, were pinned on the pall (as usual on the death of a 
Fellow), open for the inspection of the whole University. Not fewer than thirty co¬ 
pies in Latin, Greek, and English, were composed on the death of this excellent 
man. The following lines were the production of a gentleman who was formerly 
one of his pupils: 

‘Farewell, blest shade! departed saint, adieu! 

O more than friend! than father! fare thee well! 

How much I lov’d thee once, how mourn thee now, 

A griev’d and broken heart alone can tell.’ 

Nichols’ Literary Anecdotes , vol. 3, page 657. 


56 


BARTHOMLEY. 


The Deanery of Durham was conferred on Bishop Hinchliffe 
Sept. 27, 1788, which he held in commenclam with his bishopric 
instead of the mastership of Trinity. It should be here men¬ 
tioned that Bishop Hinchliffe was the first Master of Trinity, 
who (in compliance with a memorial from the junior Fellows, in 
1788,) ordered that no senior Fellow should interfere with the 
election who was not an examiner. 1 The window in Trinity 
college, painted by West, was his gift. An excellent portrait of 
him was presented, a few years ago, by his eldest son, to the 
Master of Trinity. 

The Bishop died at the palace, at Peterborough, of an attack 
of paralysis, January 11, 1794, having passed a life, so far as 
worldly advancement is concerned, of uninterrupted prosperity. 2 
He was buried at the east end of the cathedral of Peterborough, 
where a small tablet to his memory bears this inscription :— 
John Hinchliffe, 

Lord Bishop of Peterborough, 

Died, 

January 11. A.D. 1794. 

Aged 62. 

In the appendix of the “Georgian Era,” (vol. i,) a biographi¬ 
cal notice of him states,—“ That he procured no further pro¬ 
motion, is attributed to his uniformly acting with that party 
which opposed the American war.” 

He is described as having been a graceful parliamentary ora¬ 
tor, and a sensible speaker. The Rev. W. Jones, after stating 
that “ there was not a corner of the church in which he could 
not be heard distinctly,” adds, that it was his invariable practice 
“to do justice to every consonant, knowing that the vowels 
would be sure to speak for themselves; and thus he became the 
surest and clearest of speakers; his elocution was perfect, and 

never disappointed his audience.”.“His conduct in retaining 

the mastership of Trinity college, after he had obtained the see 
of Peterborough, has exposed him to some animadversion 

1 Alum. West. 653. 

2 Idem. 


r 



BARTHOMLEY. 


57 


even then the system of pluralities began to be complained of 
and condemned; it stood its ground for many years after, until, 
at the voice of the whole nation, expressed in parliament, it was 
suppressed, I trust, for ever. He gained for himself much just 
unpopularity from being the only bishop, who, in 1774, spoke 
for severe measures against the Arminians. 

Cumberland, in “ Memoirs of himself,” in unusually severe 
language, denies the Bishop the palm of merit. The following 
extract from the quarto edition of his work, 1806, page 49, 
gives so interesting an account of the state of Westminster 
school—alas! how are the mighty fallen!—that I withhold it 
not, though the latter part of it presses heavily on my grand¬ 
father. Speaking of the period of his being at Westminster 
school, he says:— 

“ Dr. Johnson, afterwards Bishop of Worcester, was then second master; 
Vincent Bourne, well-known to the literary world for his elegant latin verses, 
was usher of the fifth form, and Lloyd, afterwards second master, was at the 
fourth. Cracherode, the learned collector and munificent benefactor to the 
Royal Museum, was in the hesd election, and, at that time, as grave, studious, 
and reserved, as he was through life; but correct in morals and elegant in 
manners; not courting a promiscuous acquaintance, but pleasant to those 
who knew him, beloved by many, and esteemed by all. 

“ At the head of the town boys was the Earl of Huntingdon, whom I 
should not name as a boy, for he was even then the courtly and accom¬ 
plished gentleman, such as the world saw and acknowledged him to be. The 
late Earl of Bristol, the late Earl of Buckinghamshire, and the late Bight 
Honourable Thomas Harley, were my form-fellows; the present Duke of 
Richmond—then Lord March—Warren Hastings, Colman, and Lloyd were 
in the under school; and, what is a very extraordinary coincidence, there 
were in school, together, three boys, Hinchliffe, Smith, and Vincent, who af¬ 
terwards succeeded to be severally head-masters of Westminster school, and 
not by the decease of any one of them. Hinchliffe might well be called the 
child of fortune, for he was born in penury;’ (not the fact,) “ and obscurity, 
and was lifted into opulence and high station, not by the elasticity of his 
own genius, but by that lucky combination of opportunities which merit has 
no share in making,” (a severe rebuke for those who assisted in his eleva¬ 
tion, attributing to them both want of principle and judgment,) “ and mo¬ 
desty no aptitude to seize. At Trinity college I knew him as an undergra¬ 
duate below my standing; in the revolution of a few years, I saw him in the 
station aforetime filled by my grandfather as master of the college, and liold- 


H 


58 


BARTHOMLEY. 


ing it with the bishoprick of Peterborough, thus doubly dignified with those 
preferments which had separately rewarded the learned labours of Cumber¬ 
land and Bentley.” 

This is cutting enough, but, after all, the opinion of one 
man; and we know not upon what ground it was formed, or 
with what motive written. 

In the Gentleman’s Magazine, 1794, vol. 64, page 93, his 
death is thus recorded :— 

“Jan. 11th.—Aged 63, at his palace, in Peterborough, after a long illness, 
which terminated in a paralytic stroke, the Right Rev. Dr. John Hinchliffe, 
bp. of Peterborough, and dean of Durham. This learned prelate and eloquent 
orator was bom in 1731, at Westminster, admitted on the foundation there 
1746, elected thence to Trinity college, Cambridge, 1750, when he was ad¬ 
mitted a scholar, April 26th, 1751; took the degree of B.A., in 1754, and 
was chosen a fellow of his college, Oct. 2nd. 1755. In 1757 he commenced 
M.A., and March 8th, 1764, was elected head master of Westminster School, 
(where he had been usher,) in the room of Dr. Markham, which place he 
resigned in June following. In July, the same year, he was created D.D. 
His promotion afforded a strong instance of what may be done by merit 
alone!' ! “ His father kept a livery stable in Swallow-street. The son, after 
passing through the forms of Westminster School, went to Trinity college, 
Cambridge, where he had scarcely taken a degree before lie was chosen, 
for his learning and integrity , to become the companion of the Duke of Graf¬ 
ton, during a tour of Europe. He attended the Duke of Devonshire also on 
his travels (this was an error, rectified by Oxoniensis, in a subsequent num¬ 
ber,) ; and afterwards accompanied Mr. Crewe, of Crewe Hall, Cheshire, 
whose sister he married. The Duke of Grafton, during his administration, 
conferred on him the valuable vicarage of Greenwich, in Kent, and the same 
ministerial interest got him appointed chaplain in ordinary to the king, by 
whom he was promoted to the mastership of Trinity college, Cambridge, 
where he was installed March 3, 1768 ”.(Then follow his other promo¬ 

tions, with their dates, which have already been given, and then the article 
concludes thus:)—“ His lordship was an admirable preacher, and had a re¬ 
markable mellow voice. His charges, and his manner of delivering them, 
were much admired, and will be long remembered. By his liberal and man¬ 
ly conduct in the senate, he has endeared his name to Britons, having con¬ 
stantly and uniformly given his vote in every bill brought before the house 
in a way that reflected honour on the liberality of his sentiments.” 

The Alumni. Westmonasteriensis says :— 

“ It may, however, be said of him, that, if his rapid elevation was in con¬ 
sequence of his acquaintance and connection with persons of influence and 



BARTHOMLEY. 


59 


power in the state, yet he showed himself well qualified for the important 
stations he was called upon to fill. He was esteemed a learned man, and 

much admired for his preaching.He was also an eloquent and, at one 

time, a frequent speaker in the House of Lords, and took a great part on the 
question of the American disturbances.” 

The Bishop’s appearance was melancholy and stern; he suf¬ 
fered, continually, from the most oppressive headaches, which 
gave a serious and painful cast to his countenance, and occa¬ 
sioned, sometimes, an irritability of temper. He was, however, 
of a disposition, and manners, the most amiable and attractive; 
he was generous, and charitable. In society he was extremely 
cheerful, and his company and conversation were sought by the 
most eminent of his day: “ noscitur e sociis” may be applied to 
him. Madame D’Arblay, in her Diary, writes:— 

“Brighton, 1779.—The supper was veiy gay. Mrs. Thrale was in high 
spirits, and her wit flashed with incessant brilliancy. Mr. Murphy told se¬ 
veral stories with admirable humour, and the Bishop of Peterborough was a 
worthy third, contributing towards the general entertainment—he turns out 

most gaily sociable.”.“ Bath, 1780.—At Dean Ossory’s. The Bishop, in 

conversation, is, indeed, a most shining and superior man; gay, high-spirited, 

manly, quick, and penetrating.”.“ Mr. Anstey chooses to keep his talents 

to himself, or only to exert them upon very particular occasions, for I have 
seen him with Mr. Montagu, with Mrs Thrale, the Bishop Peterborough, 
and Lord Mulgrave; and four more celebrated folks for their abilities can 

hardly be found.”.“ Sunday.—We had an excellent sermon from the Bp. 

of Peterborough, who preached merely at the request of Mrs. Thrale.At 

dinner, we had the Bishop and Dr. Harrington; and the Bishop, who was 
in very high spirits, proposed a frolic, which was, that we should go to 
Spring Gardens, where he should give tea, and thence proceed to Mr. 
Ferry’s, to see his very curious house and garden. Mrs. Thrale pleaded that 
she had invited company to tea at home, but the Bishop said we would go 
early, and should return in time, and was so gaily authoritative that he 
gained his point. He has been so long accustomed to command, when mas¬ 
ter of Westminster School, that he cannot prevail with himself, I believe, 
ever to be overcome.” 

Madame D’Arblay was the admired of Dr. Johnson, who did 
not bestow his admiration on unworthy persons; this, together 
with her own fair fame as a writer, may justly give her some 
claim to discernment of ability; and what its conclusion was in 
the case of the Bishop, the foregoing extracts from her diary 







GO 


BARTHOMLEY. 


suffice to show. Now, I do not say that he was a leviathan of 
learning, or one of those brilliant geniuses which illume the 
world of letters: he was neither; but I venture to maintain, 
that he was not a worthless child of accident. It may suit a 
Cumberland—the plotter of unread plays, the combiner of dra¬ 
matic accidents —to talk of “a lucky combination of opportu¬ 
nities !” This is not the Christian’s language; he will never 
acknowledge luck to be the pivot upon which a man s advance¬ 
ment turns; he recognizes the hand of a divine providence in 
the rise and fall of every man. In the words of Hartley Co¬ 
leridge :— 

“ Let me not deem that I was made in vain, 

Or that my Being was an accident. 

Each drop uncounted in a storm of rain 
Hath its own mission, and is duly sent 
To its own leaf or blade, not idly spent 
’Mid myriad dimples on the shipless main. 

The very shadow of an insect’s wing, 

For which the violet cared not while it stay’d, 

Yet felt the lighter for its vanishing, 

Proved that the sun was shining by its shade.” 

The Bishop had his mission, —and, from all I ever heard of 
him, from those who knew him well, I must say, he was gifted 
with abilities and attainments adapted thereto . 1 

1 A volume of Sermons appeared after his death, (Lond. I796,j designed for pri¬ 
vate circulation, and dedicated to the Duke of Grafton, by his son Henry John. 


(Note .)—I have frequently heard my father speak of the Peterborough Tortoise, 
kept in the palace gardens. Sharon Turner, in his “ Sacred History of the World,” 
(letter 15, p. 418,) writes of it,—“The one at Peterborough was 220 years old; it 
had been contemporary with seven successive bishops.” At page 419 is added this 
note“ Of the one at Peterborough the favourite food, in spring, was the dande¬ 
lion, of which it eat twenty a ta meal; or a lettuce; it sucked greedily the pulp of 
an orange. At the end of June it looked out for fruits; it esteemed most the straw¬ 
berry and gooseberry; of the latter it would take sometimes a pint. It would not 
take animal food, nor any liquid. It weighed 13| pounds, hut moved with ease un¬ 
der a weight of 18 stone. In 1813 it lay under a shelter of a cauliflower apparently 
torpid.” (“Murray’s Experiment. Researches.”) 



BARTHOMLEY. 


61 


My grandfather had six children: Henry John, one of the 
Law-fellows of Trinity college, Cambridge, a wrangler, and 
senior Chancellor’s medallist, in 1788; William, died young; 
Edward, rector of Bartliomley, and vicar of Acton, Cheshire; 
Emma, married to T. S. Duncombe, Esq., Copgrove, York¬ 
shire, brother of the first Lord Feversham; Frances, married 
to Colonel Clayton, 3rd Guards, of Stone Hall, Surrey, and 
brother of Sir Wm. Clayton, Bart., of Herden Park, Surrey; 
Charlotte, died, unmarried, at Bamsgate, 1853. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTEB X. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

In my last letter I informed you, that the family of my 
paternal grandfather was Saxon; singular enough, my maternal 
grandfather was a Frenchman: and if any honour is derived to 
us from ancestry, I deem it no little honour to be descended 
from one of those noble and devoted men, who “ esteemed the 
reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt,” 
and cheerfully “ forsook house and lands for his name’s sake, 
and the gospel’s.” 

Your great-grandfather was the eldest son of a French Pro¬ 
testant refugee: a persecuted, expatriated Huguenot. After 
years of rebellious turbulence and strife—most unworthy their 
high profession—the Protestants of France settled down into 
a quiet, orderly, and loyal people. Richelieu had guaranteed 
to them the free exercise of their religion, but their strong¬ 
holds were destroyed, their political assemblies were prohi¬ 
bited, and, as a powerful and terrible body of the state, they 
remained no longer. Their energies and talents were turned 
into fresh channels, and they speedily became pre-eminent for 



BARTHOMLEY. 


G2 

their active industry, their learning, their enterprise and suc¬ 
cess in manufactures and commerce, and even for their mili¬ 
tary services; hut, unhappily, the policy of Louis XIY began 
to he changed towards them. This king had, in the most so¬ 
lemn manner, ratified, in their behalf, the celebrated edict of 
Nantes, promulgated by Henry IY, in 1598; but now, influ¬ 
enced by that Church which can bear no rival, and supported 
by the unanimous consent of the Catholics, he became im¬ 
pressed with the notion, that his first duty, as the most Chris¬ 
tian king , was to root out heresy from his dominions. The 
Protestant party had been deprived of its power by repeated re¬ 
verses, and what was called “ the edict of pardon,” sealed its 
fate. 

Louis entered not on his mission rashly, and at once; lit¬ 
tle by little he encroached on the legal rights of his Protes¬ 
tant subjects, until those rights were wholly abrogated. The 
conversion of the heretics to the Catholic faith became the 
chief aim of the king, court, church, and people. A deep- 
wrought policy—so characteristic of the Romish Church— 
formed schemes to direct it to a successful end, and left no 
means unemployed for this. The ‘ sorrows’ of bereaved fami¬ 
lies were outraged: an order in council, forbad Protestants to 
bury their dead, save at day-break or night-fall. Barbarous 
laws, against relapsed converts, were revived; and, after the 
death of such of these who refused the sacraments of Rome, 
their naked bodies were drawn on hurdles to their graves, 
amidst the outrages of the mob. Children horn of Catholic 
fathers and Protestant mothers, were ordered to be baptized in¬ 
to the religion of the former. Priests were authorized, in the 
presence of a magistrate, to exhort dying heretics to conver¬ 
sion; and if, in the last agony, any could not speak, some move¬ 
ment of the eyes, or of the head, was seized upon to indicate 
a wish to change their religion; their bodies were then interred 
in the Catholic cemetery, and their children, if they had any, 
were dragged to mass. The learned professions were closed to 


BARTHOMLEY. 


63 


Protestants: they were forbidden to tax themselves for the sup¬ 
port of their ministers: their places of worship were destroyed: 
their schoolmasters were prohibited from teaching Protestant 
children anything but reading, writing, and arithmetic. 4 Pater¬ 
nal authority ’ was undermined: an edict of the 17th June, 1681, 
permitted 44 children of seven years old to abjure the so-called 
reformed religion, without their fathers and mothers and other 
parents being suffered to offer the least hindrance, under what¬ 
ever pretext.” 4 Books and writings against Catholicism ’ were 
ordered to be burned. Protestant ministers were commanded 
not to preach against the religion of Rome: their academies of 
learning—once so flourishing—were destroyed. And, in order 
to deprive the pastor of his influence over his flock, he was 
not allowed to discharge the duties of his holy office for more 
than three years together in the same place. 

I shall not attempt to specify every method of conversion, it 
would be beyond my object in writing to you; but two great 
measures, which were adopted, when these I have mentioned, 
and others, failed to prosper as speedily and effectually as was 
hoped, must not be omitted, for they led to that catastrophe 
which brought your ancestor to the dominion of Great Britain. 
These two measures were— 44 Bribery, and the Dragonnades.” 

In 1677, Louis XIV devoted a secret fund to the conversion 
of Protestants. Pelisson, a convert, had management of this, and 
the Romish bishops acted as his instruments. The average price 
of each convert, according to their returns, was six livres a head. 
We must confess, with shame, that this measure was eminently 
successful: the golden eloquence of Pelisson performed more 
wonders than that of Bossuet; but, not enough. Louvois, at 
the head of the war department, brought a reinforcement to 
the attempts at conversion, by means of the army; and then 
began the dragonnades, or dragoonnings. A double number of 
troopers was distributed to the houses of Protestants: an ordi¬ 
nance was signed by the king, 44 exempting all converts, for the 
space of two years, from lodging men at arms.” The conduct 


04 


BARTHOMLEY. 


of these men at arms shall be given you by Weiss, from whose 
most valuable work I have culled the preceding information, 

sometimes using his own words :— 1 

“ The soldiers entered the houses with uplifted swords, sometimes crying, 

‘ kill! kill!’ to frighten the women and children. As long as the inhabitants 
had wherewithal to satisfy them, they were hut pillaged; but when their 
means were exhausted, when the price of their furniture was spent, and the 
clothes and ornaments of their women were sold, the dragoons seized them 
by the hair to drag them to church; or if they left them in their houses, 
they employed threats, outrage, and even tortures, to oblige them to become 
converts. Of some they burned the feet and hands at a slow fire; they broke 
the ribs and limbs of others with blows of sticks. Several had their lips 
burned with red hot irons; and others were thrown into damp dungeons, 
with threats that they should be left there to rot. The soldiers said that they 
were allowed every licence, except murder and rape..’ 

The same author 3 relates an act of cruelty, which, for its in¬ 
genuity of refined torture, out-catholizes even Catholics: 

A wretch of the name of Foucault, “ amongst the secrets he taught them 
to subdue their hosts, ordered them to deprive of rest those who would not 
yield to other torments. The soldiers relieved each other, in order not them¬ 
selves to sink under the torture they made others suffer. The noise of 
drums, the blasphemies, the shouts, the crash of the furniture, which they 
threw about, the agitation in which they kept those poor people in order to 
force them to remain up and with their eyes open, were the means employed 
to deprive them of repose. To pinch and prick them, to drag them about, 
suspend them by ropes, blow tobacco smoke into their nostrils, and a hun¬ 
dred other cruelties, were those sports of these executioners, who thereby re¬ 
duced them to such a state that they no longer knew what they did, and 
promised all that was required, in order to escape from such barbarous treat¬ 
ment. As there were often in one house several persons who were thus to 
be kept awake, whole companies of soldiers were quartered there, that there 
might be sufficient executioners to suffice for so many tortures.The sol¬ 

diers offered to the women indignities which decency will not permit me to 

describe.The officers were no better than the soldiers; they spat in the 

women’s faces; they made them lie down, in their presence, on hot embers; 
they forced them to put their heads into ovens whose vapour was hot enough 
to suffocate them. All their study was to devise torments which should be 
painful without being mortal.” 

Alas! poor Huguenots ! human nature would be better than 
it is, if the constancy of all withstood these “ fiery trials ”; but 

1 “ History of the French Protestant Refugees, chap, iii, page G4.” 

2 Idem. 




BARTHOMLEY. 


65 


it did not: multitudes 4 held not fast their first profession .’ 
Despatch followed despatch, announcing victories over heresy; 
in one of them, the Duke de Noailles informed Louvois:— 
<£ The number of Protestants in this province” (Cevennes,) “ is 
about 240,000, and when I asked until the 25th of next month 
for their conversion, I fixed too distant a date, for, I believe, 
that at the end of this month all will be done.” The thousands 
of conversions reported to the king, persuaded him that Pro¬ 
testantism, in his dominions, was extinct. The illusion led 
liim at once to revoke the edict of Nantes, for of what further 
use could that edict he, when the Protestant portion of his sub¬ 
jects, for whose advantage it was framed and promulgated, no 
longer existed! On the 22nd of October, 1685, he signed, at 
Fontainbleau, the revocation of the edict of Nantes. It fell 
upon the Protestants, yet remaining, like a thunder-clap, and 
before they recovered from the shock, it was succeeded by a 
storm of pitiless oppressions, which, at length, forced them to 
the resolution of quitting their country. A mighty exodus en¬ 
sued; the ministers of religion first departed, multitudes of 
laymen followed. The manner of their emigration Professor 
Weiss shall describe : x — 

“ They set out disguised as pilgrims, couriers, sportsmen with gun on 
shoulder, peasants driving cattle, porters carrying burthens, in footmen’s 
liveries, and in soldier’s uniforms. The richest had guides, who, for sums 
varying from 1000 to 6000 livres, helped them to cross the frontier. The 
poor set out alone, choosing the least practicable roads, travelling by night, 
and passing the day in forests and caverns, sometimes in barns, or hidden 
under hay. The women resorted to similar artifices. They dressed them¬ 
selves as servants, peasants, nurses; they wheeled harrows; they carried 
hods and burthens. The younger ones smeared or dyed their faces, to avoid 
attracting notice; others put on the dress of lackeys, and followed on foot, 
through the mire, a guide on horseback, who passed for their master. The 
Protestants of the sea-board got away in French, English, and Dutch mer¬ 
chant vessels, whose masters hid them under hales of goods and heaps of 
coals, and in empty casks, where they had only the bung-hole to breathe 
through. There they remained, crowded upon one another, until the ship 
sailed. Fear of discovei*y and the galleys gave them courage to suffer. Per- 

1 History of the French Refugees, chap, iii, page 79. 

I 


66 


BARTHOMLEY. 


sons brought up in every luxury, pregnant women, old men, invalids, and 
children, vied with each other in constancy, to escape from then* persecu¬ 
tors—often risking themselves, in mere boats, upon voyages the thought of 
which would, in ordinary times, have made them shudder. A Norman gen¬ 
tleman, Count de Marance passed the channel, in the depth of winter, with 
forty persons, amongst whom were several pregnant women, in a vessel of 
seven tons burthen. Overtaken by a storm, he remained long at sea, with¬ 
out provisions or hope of succour, dying of hunger; he, the countess, and all 
the passengers reduced, for sole sustenance, to a little melted snow, with 
which they appeased their burning thirst, and moistened the parched lips of 
their children, until they landed, half dead, upon England’s shores.” 

The revocation of the edict of Nantes was hailed, throughout 
France, with acclamations of applause. Painters employed their 
art to perpetuate the victory of catholic truth over heresy; 
medals were struck to commemorate the event; and a statue 
was erected at the Hotel de Ville, of Paris, in honour of the 
king. The clergy, revelling in the accomplishment of their 
wishes, and the sufferings of the persecuted, offered public 
thanksgivings in their churches; and Bossuet, in the heat and 
blindness of his zeal, prostituted his high talents to glorify a 
wretched, profligate bigot, and, in glowing words of excitement, 
exclaimed:—“ Touched by so many marvels, let us expand our 
hearts in praises of the piety of Louis! Let our acclama¬ 
tions ascend to the skies, and let us say to this new Con¬ 
stantine, this new Theodosius, this new Marcian, this new 
Charlemagne, what the thirty-six fathers formerly said in the 
council of Chalcedon: ‘You have strengthened faith, you have 
exterminated heretics; it is a work worthy of your reign, whose 
proper character it is. Thanks to you, heresy is no more— 
God alone can have worked this marvel—King of heaven pre¬ 
serve the king of earth! it is the prayer of the church, it is the 
prayer of the bishops.’! ” These swelling words of vanity— 
this bombast of falsehood, were negatived by the fact that he¬ 
resy yet lived; or, if destroyed, had marvellously risen from its 
ashes. For, the number of heretical emigrants has been esti¬ 
mated at from three to four hundred thousands; and one of 
these was my great-grandfather, De Beauvoir. 


barthomley. 


67 


I have often heard my mother say that he was of Marseilles; 
and, I fancy, that she little knew how ominous of cruel suffer¬ 
ing to many of the hapless Huguenots, the name of that town 
was! 

I have not been able to discover that Marseilles was a city to 
which any French Protestant families belonged; but I have dis¬ 
covered this painful fact, that many of the refugees, who were 
captured, whilst making their escape, were sent to the galleys at 
Marseilles. In June, 1686, there were more than six hundred 
Protestants at these galleys; and the thought came across my 
mind, possibly, poor De Beauvoir was one of these; and, by some 
providential help, effected his escape from slavery: providen¬ 
tial, I say, for, confined to their boat, chained day and night to 
their benches, the galley slaves of Marseilles were unceasingly 
watched by their guardians. This is, indeed, only a conjecture; 
but how else can we account for his coming from Marseilles ? 
Friendless, and penniless, he arrived at Guernsey. 

Looking at the date of my grandfather’s death, 1782, I con¬ 
clude that his father was but young when he came to that island, 
and, perhaps, married after he had been some years settled there. 
His wife’s maiden name is unknown to me: they had two sons 
and a daughter. Why De Beauvoir chose Guernsey as the place of 
his refuge, I cannot positively state; but it appears, from a sur¬ 
vey of that island, made in our Edward the Third’s reign, that a 
Pierre De Beauvoir resided there then, and his lineal descend¬ 
ants continued at Guernsey until a few years ago ; their last re¬ 
presentative being the Bev. Peter De Beauvoir, at whose death, 
Sir J. E. De Beauvoir, having married his next of kin, suc¬ 
ceeded to his immense wealth. And, possibly, the emigrant De 
Beauvoir may have been related to this family, and, knowing 
this, sought and received its help until he was in a position to 
support himself. It is a curious coincidence, and one which 
bears me out in suggesting the probability of this relationship, 
that my grandfather gave to his children the same names which 
were given to different members of the old Guernsey-family, 


68 


BARTHOMLEY. 


from Edward III downwards—John, William, Peter. His own 
name was John. He received, at all events, from some source or 
other, an excellent education, and most polished manners; and, 
at an early age, entered the service of the Royal Navy of Eng¬ 
land. Considerable obscurity surrounds this period of his life : 
suffice it to say, that, from step to step, the emigrant’s son— 
having Anglified his name, by the advice of the first Lord 
Auckland, into Bover, (which name we shall now adopt,) pushed 
himself forward, until he attained the rank of Post Captain. 

His were not “ piping times of peacewe were at war with 
our great and restless rival, France; and against the country 
which had proscribed his family, Bover was fated to turn his 
arms. The French fleet had been carrying reinforcements to 
the French Canadians, and Admiral Boscawen was sent to in¬ 
tercept it. He posted himself off the banks of Newfoundland, 
and whilst there, Bois de la Mothe passed him in a fog, and got 
safe into the river St. Lawrence. Tw t o French ships of the line 
were, however, captured by Captains Howe and Andrews, and, 
in consequence, the French recalled their ambassador: ours 
was also re-called, and regular hostilities between the two na¬ 
tions began. On the 14th October, 1755, Admiral Byng was 
sent to intercept the French fleet, having under his command 
twenty-two ships of the line, two frigates, and two sloops; in 
this he failed, hut this failure was small compared with that 
which cost the unhappy Admiral his life. The French had pre¬ 
pared a large armament, in the Mediterranean, to attack Min- 
' orca, and Byng was despatched with ten ships of the line to its 
relief, to -which three more were afterwards added. Captain 
Bover was appointed to one of these—the Buckingham, and 
was, of course, engaged in the disastrous affair which created so 
much excitement in England. 

Your aunt Fanny has in her possession the particulars of 
the engagement, in the handwriting of Capt. Bover, and which 
formed the substance of his evidence in favour of poor Byng, at 
his trial. I make no excuse for inserting the dry minutes; al- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


69 


though time has, indeed, diminished their interest, and the 
present generation is not impassioned by the clamour which 
Byng’s £ retreat’ roused in the country, and is disposed to take 
a calm and juster view of the affair; nevertheless, they will help 
to elucidate the truth, and place history in its right track, and 
are so far valuable. As for the ill-fated Byng, I imagine that 
few will now charge him with a want of personal courage; his 
fault, or his misfortune, was a want of confidence in his re¬ 
sources, which, it will be acknowledged, were much too few and 
weak, and cast a desponding lethargy over his exertions. He 
met and underwent his sentence of death like a brave man, and 
fixed one more indelible blot on the political annals of Eng¬ 
land : he died the scape-goat of a ministry. Capt. Bover’s mi¬ 
nutes are these:— 

“ On the 19th of May, in the morning, the wind being about NNW., we 
came in sight o^the island of Minorca, when three of the frigates went 
ahead of the fleet to discover, as we imagined, the state of St. Philip’s fort, 
and to acquaint Mr. Byng of it by means of some private signals. The 
Phoenix, commanded by Captain Hervey, was the ship that made these 
signals, which were several; but when she got the length of the Lara of Ma¬ 
hon, she and the two other frigates were becalmed, and the breeze continuing 
with us, we came up and joined them. We then saw the English colours fly¬ 
ing on St. Philip’s fort, and that they fired from thence upon the French, who, 
amongst other batteries against the fort, had a bomb one upon Cape Molla. 
Some time before we came this length, two French tartans got in between 
Lara of Mahon and Minorca, and worked up to windward as far as the 
French lines, which extended down to the sea-side to the southward of St. 
Philip’s. At noon Cape Molla bore NNE. half E., distance three or four 
leagues, and the wind was then variable, and little of it. About one in the 
afternoon a fleet was discovered from the mast head, in the south-eastward, 
standing, as it appeared, towards us. Our fleet, thereupon, stood to make 
them plainer, and when we had, and counted sixteen ships of them, Mr. 
Byng brought to, and made Admiral West’s signal. Some time after Mr. 
West had been on hoard the Families, a signal was made for a line of battle 
ahead; but, little and variable wind still continuing, it was almost night be¬ 
fore the ships were got in their station, and at this time Admiral West re¬ 
turned on board of us. At this time also a signal was made for tacking, and 
the French fleet did the same, so that, instead of standing for each other, as 
we did before, we then stood each from the other; we towards Minorca, and 
they from it. The wind was now SSW. At five the next morning, the wind 


70 


BARTHOMLEY. 


continuing at SSW., we saw two tartans to leeward, standing in for our fleet. 
The Admiral, thereupon, made the Louisa’s signal to chase to the NE.; and 
a little after another signal, for the officer commanding in the second post, 
to send out ships to chase, upon which we made the Captain’s and Defiance’s 
signal to chase to the NE. At seven the latter brought her chase to, hut the 
Louisa not coming up with hers, the Admiral made her signal to leave off 
chasing. Soon after, the Trident made a signal for seeing a fleet between 
the east and south, which the Admiral answered, and observing that the 
Louisa still continued after chase, a signal was made to call in all cruizers, 
which, after several guns fired, the Louisa at last perceived, and stood to¬ 
wards, and soon after joined, us; as did also the Captain and Defiance. About 
nine we repeated the signal, and tackt to the SE., the wind being still SSW., 
and at ten the signal was made for a line of battle a-head on the starboard 
tacks, two cables asunder, to draw into which order some ships of the van 
were obliged to bring to, that the rear might near them. At half past eleven 
our fleet was drawn up in a well connected line, agreeable to the signal, with 
the wind at SW. by S. nearest, when the enemy were about three points 
under our lee, laying to, unformed, with steer larboard tacks aboard. The 
signal was then made for the van of the fleet to fix and stand on, which we 
continued doing till half past one p.m., at which time the* signal was made 
for the rear of the fleet to tack first, but was immediately altered in that for the 
whole fleet to tack together, which we repeated and tackt accordingly. At a 
little after two, a signal was made to lead one point to starboard; and a very 
little after another signal, to lead one point more to starboard. We repeated 
both these signals and complied with them, as, I believe, all the fleet did. 
When we had gone half or two-thirds of a mile in this manner, that is,—at 
about a quarter after two, the signal was made to engage, which we repeated 
and bore down to the enemy. 

“ The French fleet was then between the north and east of us, drawn up 
in a very fine line, one ahead of another, with their larboard tacks aboard, 
under their topsails, and laying to, from which, I presume, as the wind was 
then SW., that their line must be upon a WNW. and ESE. point. On the 
other hand, ours was upon a SE. by S. and NW. by N. one, because when 
we drew up close hawled, the wind was SW. by S., and because this position 
had not been altered either by tacking or edging away, as every ship in par¬ 
ticular just did what all the others also did. From these it follows that the 
two lines were not parallel to one another, and that for one mile or there¬ 
abouts, the two vans were asunder when the signal for engaging was made, 
the two rears were above three, as the length of each line was near four 
miles. In bearing down, the particular situation of our ship, with regard to 
the French, was such, that in order to join the fourth ship of their van, 
which must be our own, (especially, as at this time, the Deptford was or¬ 
dered out of the line,) we brought the wind upon our starboard quarter. 
And this, as three of their ships kept firing at us all the while we went 


BARTHOMLEY. 


71 


down, made some of the Chef d’Escadre’s shot (the stead-most of these three, 
and the third of their van,) strike us on our larboard bow; but we did not 
return our fire to any of them, intending to keep it till we came within pro¬ 
per distance to do effectual execution. However, when we got within about 
two cables length of them, our leading ship having already began to engage, 
we put our helm starboard, and discharged, as we luff’d up, our broadside to 
the fifth ship of the enemy’s van, and then ran up abreast of the fourth, 
against whom we engaged. What signal might have been made, or what 
was done by every particular ship of our fleet during the time we engaged 
the ship, I cannot pretend to give an account of, because I was busy at my 
quarters. Only, I took notice, at times, out of the ward-room windows, that 
from the Intrepid rearwards, our ships seemed to be considerably further 
from the enemy than we in the van were, though with broadsides to them. 
In about an hour or somewhat less from the beginning of our engaging this 
fourth ship, during which we had, among other damage, our main-top sail 
yard shot in two in the slings, she bore away before the wind and quitted 
the line, as did, just after her, the shipstern next to her, against whom the 
Captain was engaged. We, thereupon, made sail ahead and shot near 
abreast of the French Chef d’Escadre, whom we began to engage, and, 
jointly with the Lancaster, kept firing upon, till she and the other two ships 
of their van, against whom the Defiance and Portland fought, fairly quitted 
their line also, and went away almost before the wind. We then edged away 
after them for a while, till, perceiving that their rear had made sail towards 
us in order to protect that flying van, and that our own rear was, at the same 
time, laying to with their main-topsail aback, a good way stern, we luff’t up 
again, and made the Lancaster’s signal, who was also going down, that she 
might do the like; but she, not observing it, kept after them till she was 
near a mile from us, when she and the Portland, who had followed her, 
hawled her wind likewise. 

“The Defiance had kept her luff all the while, by which it followed that 
we, in edging down, had got to leeward and abreast of her. About half-past 
four, when this last-mentioned ship was upon our weather quarter, within 
one cable and a half’s length, the Captain stem at about three or four ca¬ 
bles, and the Intrepid stern of her again at six or seven in distance, or more, 
the Lancaster and Portland at the distance of one mile under our lee bow, 
and the rear of our fleet at near three miles stern, and to windward withal, 
the French rear being come up with us began their fire, first upon the Cap¬ 
tain, and then upon us and the Defiance. We all three, but especially the 
Captain and Buckingham, returned ours to them till half after five, when 
they got near out of the reach of our shot, having edged away from the very 
first of their firing, probably to go and join the sooner their scattered van. 
About this last mentioned time, or perhaps something sooner, the signal that 
had been made for the rear of the fleet to brace to, being hawled down, our 
rear made sail to join us, with the Deptford into the line in the room of the 



72 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Interpid, who, on account of her being disabled, was left out of it. As soon 
as we had left off firing we got a new main-topsail yard across, and began to 
splice some of our most necessary running rigging that had been shot, and, 
as a signal was made for the van to fill and stand on, we made sail accord¬ 
ingly. Soon after this a signal was thrown out for the rear of this fleet to 
make more sail and close the line. 

“About seven o’clock the Admiral made, and we repeated, the signal to 
tack, and those ships to lead on the starboard that had led on the larboard 
tacks, and at quarter past we tackt in our station. Cape Molla bore then 
about NNW. five or six leagues, the Intrepid, with the Chesterfield, ordered 
to attend her about SE., or SE. by S., eight or nine miles, and the French 
fleet NNW. and NW. by N., about four or five, steering away between the 
NW. and NNW., with all their sails set. At eight, it being dark, we hawled 
down for the signal for engaging, and our courses up; at half-past the signal 
being made to bring to, we repeated, and obeyed it; a little while after 
which, Capt. Hervey came on board, and then Capt. Gardner. We bent our 
main-topsail, and double reefed it, as well as the fore-topsail; then set to 
work and continued all night in knotting, splicing, mending sails, filling of 
powder, stopping shot holes, and getting, in every respects, the ship ready for 
another action. On the 21st: in the morning, we could not, from our ship, 
see either the Intrepid or Chesterfield; or the French fleet. Three of the fri¬ 
gates were sent to look round the fleet, but they joined us again at night, 
without having seen anything of our two missing ships. We kept laying to 
for the most part, there being very little and variable wind, with hazy 
weather. Mount Toro bore NW. by W. eight or nine leagues. Continued 
repairing. 

“ The 22nd. The wind proving easterly we kept to the southward. Ships 
were detached ahead to look out again for the Intrepid and Chesterfield. In 
the afternoon they made signal for seeing them, and in the evening they all 
joined us; upon which we brought to: Capt. Andrews was buried about this 
time. Mount Toro bore to-day N. 32° west, distance twelve leagues. 

“ The 23rd. The wind was westerly for some time; we lay to awhile, and 
then made sail with our larboard tacks aboard. In the evening ten or twelve 
sail were seen to the northward of us, which we judged to be the French 
fleet. Mount Toro bore this day N., distance ten leagues. 

“The 24th. The wind proved southerly; a signal was made for all 
captains; and when they were returned on board their respective ships, we 
made sail to the westward; being eighteen sail in company. Mount Toro 
bore then N. three quarters W., distance fifteen leagues.” 

From these minutes it certainly does appear that Byng was 
wanting in promptitude and energy; he had the advantage in 
the skirmish —for a pitched battle we cannot call it—and did not 
follow it up. Whatever may have been his fault, there is none 


BARTHOMLEY. 


73 


to be found with those under his command. Your great-grand¬ 
father was ready at all points; in the van, or in the rear, it was all 
the same to him; he pitched into the enemy wherever he could 
reach him; and, when the French had fairly slipped away, he 
and his brave men, through the ensuing night, were getting 
ready to fight again the next morning, as they hoped: and this 
spirit seems to have animated all who were in action together 
with him. Good English stuff was there, but not made a right 
and full use of. 

Capt. Bover was afterwards attached to the flagship of Ad¬ 
miral Hoare, when a friendship of more than ordinary intimacy 
sprang up between the Admiral and himself. Of this tar of the 
old school, I must not omit to say a few words. He was a cha¬ 
racter; and the original from whom Smollett drew his humour¬ 
ous and immortal picture of Hawser Trunnion. He was a 
rough, daring—every inch, a—sailor; and, at sea or on land, in 
conversation or occupation, or in the arrangement of his house, 
never lost sight of the deepest nauticism: in fact, he was a per¬ 
fect contrast to his Anglo-Franco Captain, whose mind and man¬ 
ners bore the refined polish of his father-land. The Admiral, 
for a reason which I am ignorant of, settled for a time in Che¬ 
shire. He obtained the lease of some land in Appleton, near 
Warrington, from Sir Peter Warburton, Bart., of Arley, with 
whom he was on the most friendly terms; and choosing a site 
which commands a fine view of a richly wooded vale, backed by 
Halton Castle and the Elsby Hills; and of the river Mersey— 
winding and widening its course to the sea; he there set to work 
to build a house; not after the fashion of an architect, but after 
the model of a ship. In it he had his cabins, and places, called 
by names which I, who am not a sailor, cannot venture to pro¬ 
nounce : and, before it, was a grass-plot, surrounded by a ha-ha, 
whereon he trudged for exercise, honouring it with the name 
of ‘quarter-deck.’ All w T ho approached him there, were re¬ 
quired to do so with their hats off, and with every other mark of 
respect and duty which belong to the reality. Bells sounded 


K 


74 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the time of day: and, as an Admiral on board his flag-ship, he 
breakfasted, dined, and supped, and went to bed. His move¬ 
ments were regulated by the weather-vane: in a kind of a log¬ 
book, the points of the wind, and the occurrences of the day, 
were regularly noted down. His conversation about terrestrial 
things was always interlarded with nautical phraseology: on 
land he was at sea. In fact, he was amphibious—a terrestro- 
nautico-animal; but, with all his professional foibles, not a 
warmer-hearted, kinder, or more hospitable creature ever ex¬ 
isted. This cabin-mansion, close to Hill Cliffe—now belonging 
to Thomas Lyon, Esq., of Appleton Hall—was built by the 
gallant sailor, in order to be near his friend, Captain Bover, 
who had settled at an adjoining place, called Stockton Lodge, 
having been appointed the naval superintendent of the Che¬ 
shire district. 

You will remember, that, in my seventh letter, I inserted a 
quotation from Ormerod, stating, that “the Malbons removed 
from the neighbourhood of Bradeley Hall, and terminated in 
an heir general, who married into the family of Bover.” This 
heir general was the wife of Capt. Bover. She was the only 
child of the last Malbon, of Bradeley Hall, who had married a 
respectable yeoman, of the name of Kenright, of Brewer’s Hall, 
near Chester. Through this marriage, you are lineally de¬ 
scended from the Malbedengs, the ancient barons of Nantwich; 
an honour which a few of their broad acres would greatly en¬ 
hance. 

For several years, Capt. Bover continued to hold the office I 
have mentioned; and, at length, received a rather lucrative ap¬ 
pointment, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, that of regulating captain: 
and here, without further promotion, he continued until his 
death. His honourable and gentlemanly demeanour gained 
him the esteem of all classes; and, in so much respect was 
he held, that, in 1777, the Corporation voted him the freedom 
of the town, and presented it to him in a handsome gold 
snuff-box, having the arms of the corporation engraved therein. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


75 


Your eldest aunt will, I am sure, be glad to shew it you when 
next you visit her. Nor did the marks of public regard for him 
end with his life; his death occurred in 1782, and, at his fu¬ 
neral, a large procession of the inhabitants attended his re¬ 
mains to the grave. An account of the funeral honours to his 
memory is given in a little work, entitled “Local Records,” 
published at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, which runs as follows : — 

“ May 20. Died at his house, in the Bigg-market, Newcastle, John Bover, 
Esq., captain in the navy, and regulating captain of that port.. May 23rd, 
his remains were interred with all the solemnity of military honour, in St. 
Nicholas’s church, as a testimonial of his meritorious services to his king 
and country, in the following manner:—The East York and Westmoreland 
militia, with their bands joined, marched from the parade to the house of the 
deceased; the rank and file then divided, and lined the street to the church, 
when the procession began, with the grenadiers, muskets, beadles of St. 
John’s, and St. Nicholas’s, with covered staves, bands of music playing the 
dead march, drums covered, boatswain’s crew (six) of his barge, two and 
two, mutes, his servant. Corpse, pall borne by Captain Pemble; Capt. Sin¬ 
clair, of the Queen, and six other navy officers, in their uniforms, Lieut. Adam¬ 
son, R.N., chief mourner, other mourners, the ensigns of the militia, and of 
the 26th regiment, at Tynemouth barracks (Lord Adam Gordon’s), Lieute¬ 
nants, Captains, Colonels, General Beckwith, and Lord Adam Gordon, the 
Sheriff, Aldermen, and Recorder, two and two, the right worshipful the 
Mayor, Town Marshall, 'two sergeants-at-mace, an officer, a batalion. After 
the interment, the grenadiers, drawn up in the church-yard, fired three vollies. 
Thus did naval, military, and civil, with many thousands of the people of all 
ranks, with the most minute decorum, pay the last mark of respect to the re¬ 
mains of a good and gallant officer.” 

And thus we close the singular history of the poor emi¬ 
grant’s son. 

Far different was this funeral-pomp from the prudent and 
modest expression of his will, a codicil of which contains the 
following directions:— 

“ Whereas the smallness of my fortune will probably be such, at my de¬ 
mise, as to require that the strictest economy should be observed in every 
thing for the good of my Children, now eight in number, I add this codicil 
to my foregoing last will to inform my executors that it is my particular de¬ 
sire !l should be buried with all the privacy possible and without having the 
least regard to the rank I have the honour to hold in his Majesty’s navy; or, 
to be more particular, I would be carried in a common hearse to Grapenhall 


76 


BARTHOMLEY. 


church, without any parading attendance. One hatband and gloves to be 
given to each of my executors, one ditto ditto to the Clergyman who shall 
bury me; and a single pair of gloves to such persons as my said executors shall 
judge to be my friends; in particular one to Sir Peter Warburton and another 
to Capt. Wright. Let this stand good any where, and at any time-saving the 
place of burying, any one being alike to me.” 

England owes much to some of these refugees. In diploma¬ 
cy and war, in trade and manufactures, in science, and in let¬ 
ters, they have done her good service. The names of Bomilly, 
Thelusson, Saurin, Layard, Majendie, Ligonier, Prevost, De 
Blaquieres, Laboucliere, belong to the foremost rank. Let not 
the name of Bover be deemed unworthy to be placed on the 
illustrious roll, though at the bottom of the list. By-the-bye, 
I will state here, that it was not unusual with the refugees to 
change their names. Weiss tells us that they translated them 
into English, in order to conceal their origin; them circum¬ 
stances, sometimes, requiring it: — Lemaitre, into Master; 
Leroy , King; Tonnelier , Cooper; Lejeune, Young; Leblanc , 
White; Lenois, Black; L’Oiseau , Bird; &c. 

A monument to Capt. Bover’s memory was erected in St. 
Nicholas’s church, Newcastle-upon-Tyne, a few years ago, by 

his last surviving child. It bears this inscription:— 

Near 

This place lie the Remains of 
John Bover, Esq., 

Post-Captain in the Royal Navy, 

WHO DIED ON THE TWENTIETH DAY OF MAY 1782, 

AGED sixty-eight, 

Having for several previous years filled with 

THE HIGHEST CREDIT THE ARDUOUS SITUATION 
OF REGULATING OFFICER OF THIS PORT. 

This tablet 

To THE MEMORY OF A BELOVED PARENT 
IS ERECTED PURSUANT 
TO THE WISH OF HIS ONLY SURVIVING SON, 

The late George Bover, Esq., of Stockton Lodge, 
in the County of Chester. 

(Note .)—It was my grandfather’s lot to meet, in several of the Cheshire houses, 
the hero of the Squire’s story, in the December number of “ Household Words,” 
1853, most of the incidents of whose life, so well wrought-out there, I have heard 



BARTHOMLEY. 


77 


Captain Bover had thirteen children, none of whom are liv¬ 
ing ; hut as some of them deserve your notice, a brief memoir 
of them shall be given. Of the thirteen children, several died 
young; their names need not be inserted: those who grew up 
to maturer age were—George, John, Henry, William, Peter, 
Maria, Sophia, Anne. Three out of the five sons followed the 
profession of their father; of the others, George was an attor¬ 
ney-at-law, practising at Warrington, and William, the fourth 
son, entered into the army. 

1.—George, died 15th July, 1839, aged 75, at his residence, 
Stockton Lodge, and was buried in Grappenhall church, in the 
vault belonging to his family. 

from my mother’s lips, as she received them from her father. She told me, however, 
two additional ones, perhaps unknown to the writer of the article in Household 
Words. My grandfather met Higgins at Oulton Park, the seat of Mr. Egerton, 
which was filled with company. Almost every one in good society, in those days, 
took snuff, and it was the fashion to make a display of a handsome snuff-box, if you 
could—large sums of money being expended for that purpose. In the evening several 
parties sat down to whist; one of these consisted of Mr. Egerton, Higgins, my grand¬ 
father, and another, each one placing his snuff-box on the table at his side. That of 
Mr. Egerton’s was unusually splendid and expensive, and, for some special reason, 
highly valued by him; of course it attracted the attention and admiration of the 
three visitors at the table, all of whom took it up and examined it. The next morn¬ 
ing, to the great discomfort of the whole party, Mr. Egerton announced that it was 
missing, and asked advice how to act. Higgins was particularly forward in suggest¬ 
ing how to proceed, and his zeal and quickness were a theme of general admiration. 
All the servants in the house,—whether belonging to the establishment or not— 
male and female, were suddenly summoned into the hall, and kept there, whilst the 
constable, assisted by the gentlemen, searched their apartments and trunks, but in 
vain ; neither box nor thief were discovered, though it was clear that some-one be¬ 
longing to or in the house must have taken it, as no marks of a person breaking into 
the house could be seen. After Higgins was sentenced to death, he made, what is 
called, a ( clecm-bvccist) and confessed that he himself had stolen the box. He had 
accompanied Mr. Egerton upstairs, observed the room he entered was a dressing- 
room, guessed that he might leave the box on the table, waited till he thought all 
were quietly asleep, gently stole out of his own room into this dressing-room, found 
his prize, carried it off, hid it out of doors, and the next day denounced the thief, 
and planned his capture. The snuff-box, no doubt, helped to keep his hunters. 

The other incident is this, and one which had a happier termination than 
might have been. County towns were then much more inhabited by members of the 
old county families than they now are, London being brought so near to every 
one by the railway; and Chester had its full share of these. During the Christ- 


78 


BARTHOMLEY. 


2. —John, entered the navy as a midshipman, and on 9th 
March, 1780, having served the middy’s usual period of proba¬ 
tion, was appointed—by Vice-Admiral Sir Peter Parker, then 
Commander-in-chief of the fleet at Jamaica—second lieutenant 
of H. M. S. the Lion, from which, after three years, he was 
transferred to the Canada. In 1784 he held a lieutenant’s 
commission in the Centurion, stationed in the West Indies,— 
the grave of many a noble English heart! It was his lot to 
be numbered among the victims of its unhealthy climate; he 
perished there in the prime of life. He inherited the brave 
spirit of his father, which the following extract from a letter 

mas holidays it was alive with gaieties ; the theatre was opened, public assem¬ 
blies were held, private balls were given, and the young beaux of the county 
thronged to the town, to assist at these amusements; the hounds met in the neigh¬ 
bourhood : day and night had each its dissipation. The public assembly, on the 
Thursday in Christmas-week, was attended by the elite of the whole neighbourhood, 
and not till three o’clock in the morning did it break up; when all hastened home¬ 
wards. Of these, one solitary individual walked along the ancient rows, and rambled 
from them, he knew not and cared not where, into a street formed of better houses; I 
believe, Stanley-street. In front of one of these was a scaffold, against which leaned 
a tall ladder, the workmen had neglected to remove. He looked upwards, and 
perceived a light in one of the bed-rooms; he mounted the ladder, stepped from it to 
the scaffold, which proved to be on a level with the window frame, and gazed through 
an aperture of the imperfectly drawn curtains into the chamber. A young girl, in 
her ball-room dress, and accompanied by her maid, entered; she took off her jewel¬ 
lery, placed it carelessly on her dressing-table, dismissed her maid, and quickly re¬ 
tired to rest, leaving a rush-light burning in the room. He waited a-while; listened; 
all was still: he tried to raise the window, it was unfastened, and he gently and gra¬ 
dually opened it, and passed through into the room. He took the jewellery from the 
table; unlocked a jewel-box, which had its key in it, rifled it of its contents, and 
then proceeded to examine the drawers; one of them creaked on being opened, it 
disturbed the girl, who, turning round in her bed, drowsily exclaimed, “ Oh ! Mary, 
you know how tired I am, can’t you put the things straight in the morning.” It 
was a moment of life or death to her; her fate hung upon a thread. A merciful 
Providence watched over that unconscious child; tired and jaded, she spoke no other 
word, but, settling herself, fell into a sound sleep. The robber drew in his breath, 
and was quiet, until he thought all was safe for his departure through the window, 
which he closed after him; he again reached the scaffolding, and returned to his inn. 
The following day handbills were fixed on the walls, offering a large reward for the 
discovery and apprehension of the thief: he read them, as he went, in company with 
many others, to meet the hounds, and wondered, with them, how the robbery was 
effected. In his confession he declared, “ If that girl had risen up in bed, and seen 
me, I should have murdered her on the spot.” 


B ARTHOMLE Y. 


79 


of his, to a friend in England, testifies:—“ On board the Lion. 
We have had a tolerable successful cruize, hut it seems very 
strange to hear, in every other quarter, of some brave naval 
action, whilst we, hitherto, except during the alarm from the 
Comte D’Estang, have cruized in perfect safety, and insulted 
the enemy, even at the mouth of their own harbour. I must 
confess, it is highly unsatisfactory to be so totally excluded 
from the opportunity of gaining credit from one’s profession.” 

3. —Henry, a midshipman, perished young, having fallen 
from the mast, and was drowned. 

4. —W illiam , in the army, entered the service as an Ensign in 
the 5th Foot; exchanged afterwards into the 41st, 1787; served 
for some time with his regiment in Ireland, and was promoted 
to a Lieutenancy therein, Feby. 28, 1790. The Duke of Wel¬ 
lington joined this regiment, as a subaltern, in the same year 
as Lieut. Bover. How different their careers! Arthur Wellesley 
rose to the highest rank a subject can obtain, and to a great- 
ness —the theme of history—which no one, king or subject, has 
surpassed, and died in peace, in his castle at Walmer. William 
Bover accompanied the 41st to the West Indies, 1793, and in 
that year sank under the baneful influence of its climate, un¬ 
known to fame, or history. I will sum up what may be further 
said of him, with an extract taken from the “ Memoirs of the 
Bover Family,” in vol. xx, Gent. Magazine, new series, 32 

“ Whose professional career promised, in after years, to have shed a lustre 
on his name. He died universally respected and beloved both by the officers 
and men of the regiment, and having deservedly gained a character by his 
honourable and upright conduct, which long survived in the recollection of 
his companions in arms.” 

5 _Peter was born 5th October, 1772, and entered the navy, 
as a volunteer, on board H. M. S. Perseus, in 1789. His ca¬ 
reer, short as it was, shone more splendent than that of his 
brother; and, among the naval heroes of England, he takes no 
mean position. Circumstances gave him greater opportunities 
for the display of his naturally high qualities than were afforded 


80 


BARTHOMLEY. 


to his brothers, and his short life was crowded with events of 
moment; in all, he was the faithful and intrepid sailor—the 
true and devoted friend. 

From the Perseus he was removed to the Queen; and in 
1788 he was serving on board the Crown, of 64 guns, bearing 
the broad pennant of the honourable Commodore, afterwards 
Admiral Cornwallis. Whilst here, he first became acquainted 
with the late Sir Christopher Cole, K.C.B., an officer in the 
same ship, which acquaintance ripened into a close and lasting 
friendship, and, in course of time—as we shall see—led to an 
intimate connexion between the two. Admiral Comwalhs, on 
several occasions, procured his advancement in the service, and 
always evinced towards him more than ordinary kindness and 
regard. He gained, too, about this time, another sincere and 
useful friend in Admiral Affleck, who, in a letter to young Bover’s 
family, writes:—“ A Bover will always find friends in the navy; 
it is a name which will ever be dear to the service.” That a 
youth—a volunteer—should so rapidly rise in the esteem of his 
superiors, is no common occurrence; but, to steadiness of con¬ 
duct, and great natural talent, were added so much manly beau¬ 
ty, (for, like his father, he was extremely handsome,) and so 
much native grace of manner and disposition, that we cannot 
wonder he so soon became an universal favourite. 

Twice has it been my lot, and in the same singular way, to hear 
him spoken of in terms of the greatest admiration; in the stage 
coach, when, after the holidays, I was journeying back to West¬ 
minster school; now, some thirty-five years ago. On the first 
occasion, a middle-aged gentleman, on the seat opposite to 
me, began to ask me divers particulars about myself and fami¬ 
ly, (as middle-aged gentlemen sometimes will, when they meet 
a boy); and when I chanced to mention the name of Bover, he 
was in an ecstacy of delight; he had been an old ship-mate of 
Peter Bover’s, and spoke in such strong terms of regard for, and 
praise of, him, as to make a permanent impression on my me¬ 
mory. On the second occasion,—again in the same vehicle, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


81 


and travelling to the same point,—I underwent the interroga¬ 
tories of a young man, who had been a midshipman under him; 
his encomiums were, perhaps, more flattering still, for they 
touched upon his gentleness, and kindness of temper; his care 
for his little middies, their personal comforts, and their instruc¬ 
tion: pleasing exceptions from the general rule of coarse 
severity, which characterized naval commanders then. But, to 
proceed. 

On the 20th September, 1793, he was appointed a Lieu¬ 
tenant of the Minerva; and afterwards, for some time, in the 
Excellent, and the Caesar. And now we come to an epoch of 
his life, which demanded qualities of unflinching courage, and 
self-devotedness to duty. You have read the history of Eng¬ 
land, and heard of the mutiny of Portsmouth, Sheerness, and 
the Nore; a mutiny which would have borne hitter fruits for 
England, had it not been early crushed. Your great-uncle 
was, in 1796, appointed first Lieutenant of the London, of 98 
guns, bearing the flag of Admiral Sir J. Colpoys, G.C.B. In 
the following year the mutiny, at Portsmouth, broke out; and 
his ship, shortly afterwards, became the scene of most la¬ 
mentable transactions. The seamen, it must be allowed, had 
many and great grievances to complain of; the smallness of 
their pay, and of the Greenwich pensions; the unequal distri¬ 
bution of prize money; the severity of discipline; the harsh 
tyranny of the officers; the badness and scantiness of food; all 
conspired to make them dissatisfied—not disloyal; and these 
things, most assuredly, ought to have been justly weighed, and 
redressed; but, unhappily, they were not, and a wide-spread 
and well-formed conspiracy ensued. All command was taken 
from the officers; two delegates from each ship were appointed, 
who met in council—called, by them, a convention—and thence 
wrote and issued orders to the whole fleet. Petitions, drawn 
up in respectful language, and demanding nothing but what was 
moderate and just, signed by these thirty-two delegates, 
were presented to Parliament, and to the Admiralty. The ex- 


L 


82 


BARTHOMLEY. 


istence of the evils complained of was admitted, but, unwisely, 
not removed. 

Things were proceeding to extremity, when the unrestrained 
temper of Sir Allan Gardner brought them, at once, to a crisis. 
The blood-red flag was hoisted, and the fleet was in open 
and daring mutiny. A royal proclamation, containing a free 
pardon, was issued, but did not satisfy the seamen, and they 
resolved to summon a convention of delegates, at Spithead, on 
board the London. This, Colpoys resisted, in obedience to his 
orders; which, I must state, were extremely offensive even to 
officers. A part of these orders was, that all captains of his 
Majesty’s ships must see, “that the arms and ammunition be¬ 
longing to the marines be constantly kept in good order, and 

fit for immediate service, as well in harbour as at sea.”. 

“ That the captains and commanders be particularly attentive 
to the conduct of the men under their command; and that they 
be ready, on the first appearance of mutiny, to use the most vi¬ 
gorous means to suppress it, and to bring the ringleaders to 
punishment.” Colpoys, then, was simply “ready,” according 
to these positive instructions; and when the delegates’ boat, 
having them on board, neared his ship, ordered the officers to 
be armed, the marines to be in readiness, and the ports to be 
let down. The sailors of the London, however, were resolved 
that the delegates should come on board, and when their offi¬ 
cers ordered them below, refused to go, and one of them began 
to unlash one of the foremost guns, and to point it aft towards 
the quarter-deck. Bover cried out to this man to desist, and 
threatened to shoot him if he did not; the sailor continued to 
unlash; Bover kept his word, and shot him dead on the spot. 
The sailors then rushed forwards, and disarmed all the officers 
and marines; and, maddened with rage against Bover, led him 
away to the yard-arm, to be hanged. Another version of this 
affair is given, in which it is stated, that the delegates fired on 
the marines, and wounded Lieut. Simms; and that Bover, in 
consequence, ordered the marines to return the fire on them, 
and that five were killed, and six badly wounded. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


83 


Captain Brenton’s account of the affair is this :— 1 

“ It was now generally thought that all disputes were finally settled, and the 
fleet dropped down to St. Helen’s, preparatory to sailing; hut, on the 7th of 
May, when Lord Bridport made signal to prepare for sailing, every ship re¬ 
fused to obey; the seamen alleging that government did not intend to keep 
faith with them; and the delegates had determined to hold, what they called, 
a convention, on hoard the London, of 98 guns, then hearing the flag of Ad¬ 
miral Colpoys, who resolved, if possible, to oppose their measures. They, 
however, got on hoard, when the Vice-Admiral informed them, that if they 
offered to meet in convention, he should order the marines to fire on them. 
The delegates persisted;—the marines levelled their pieces, and, in this situa¬ 
tion, they were again admonished, but to no purpose. A scuffle ensued, and 
one of the delegates fired at Lieut. Simms, of the marines, and wounded him. 
Lieut. Peter Bover was directed by Capt. Griffiths (the late Vice-Admiral Sir 
Edw. G. Colpoys), to prevent the mutineers pointing a main-deck gun aft 
against the officers. Bover executed his orders, hut the seamen returned to 
the gun again, when he shot one of them with his pistol; for this he was soon 
after taken to the forecastle, to he hanged at the yard-arm, and the rope was 
put round his neck, hut he was saved by the interference of Mark Turner, 
one of the delegates, who had known him in a former ship. Two other sea¬ 
men were killed, at the same time, in this unfortunate affair. The seamen of 
the London having now gained the command of the decks, in defiance to the 
officers and marines, turned the muzzles of the foremost guns aft, and threat¬ 
ened to blow every one of their opponents into the water; in the meanwhile 
my poor friend, Peter Bover, was standing on the forecastle, awaiting the 
sentence of the mutineers. The Admiral interposed, and very nobly observed 
that he alone was to blame, and not the first Lieutenant, and that he (the 
Admiral) had acted by orders, which he had received from the Admiralty. 
The seamen demanded and obtained these orders. They then confined the 
Admiral, the Captain, and Officers to their cabins, and made the marines 
prisoners.” 

This account of the affair seems to embody the two previous 
ones, though with some slight difference, and is, most probably, 
correct. Although we know, that, to a sailor of the name of 
Fleming, Peter Bover owed his life on this occasion, yet Mark 
Turner might have been persuaded by Fleming to act in his 
behalf, he being, as Captain Brenton says, one of the delegates, 
and so in power. 

The letters of Lieut. Bover, about this time, are peculiarly 


i Brenton’s Naval History, page 280. 


84 


BARTHOMLEY. 


interesting. His first letter to liis family, after this affair, was 
from Gosport, May 11, 1797:— 

‘*1 Lave been,” be says, “in a most critical situation, but all is again 
well; I was, fortunately, much beloved by several of the ship’s company, 
and that alone has saved me; their respect for me has increased much 
since the business.” 

How true it is, that a resolute and stedfast w T alk in the path 
of duty will wring respect from those who are opposed to us. 
Honesty of purpose, and rectitude • of conduct, have a native 
beauty, which even our enemies will admire. Again, on board 
the London, May 14, 1797, he writes:— 

“ I would attempt to give you a particular account of this unhappy business, 
were it not, that, from the appearance of things, it is most likely I shall have 
an opportunity of doing so by word of mouth, in a short time; at any rate, as 
soon as these negotiations shall have put a finale to the war. Unfortunate 
as it may have been, it has bettered my prospect of promotion very con¬ 
siderably, from the circumstance of my having been placed in a distinguished 
situation, by the Admiral and Captain, at the time when it was first de¬ 
termined to endeavour to compel the mutineers to subordination. I was 
fortunate enough to give the Admiral so much satisfaction by my behaviour 
then, that he has declared his intention of making a point of my being pro¬ 
moted. The delegates have finally determined not to receive any of the officers 
that have been turned on shore from the ships, and insist that no two of them 
shall ever be appointed to the same ship. You see that it is an “ ill-wind that 
blows nobody good.’ And I am peculiarly lucky in not only remaining in 
the ship, but likewise enjoying the most thorough confidence of the ship’s 
company, who, T am happy to tell you, are, in common with the rest of the 
fleet, most excessively enraged at the idea of any republican agents stirring 
them up to sedition, and are unalterably resolved not to meddle -with any 
thing but what they have already asked, and which immediately concerns 
themselves only.” 

Another letter, dated “The London, June, 1797,” proceeds: 

“ I believe our commander-in chief has been completely renverst by the 
unhappy disturbances amongst the seamen, for, though there have been ves¬ 
sels going in every day, and we have had constant communication between 
Plymouth and Falmouth, he has not once made the signal for an opportunity 
of sending letters. I write this merely by chance, not knowing whether I 
shall not myself carry it into port; not that it is of much consequence, as the 
contents of it must necessarily be confined to the assurance of all being well 
on board the ships of this fleet. I fancy there is no reason now but the 
courts martial, on the mutineers of the Nore, for keeping us out, which I 


BARTHOMLEY. 


85 


think is a very sufficient one. A delegate, on hoard the Boyal George, pro¬ 
posed, a few days ago, to petition the king for a general pardon of the north 
sea rebels; hut on his attempting to gain a party in the ship, he was hissed 
wherever he went, and the other delegates told him if he brought any peti¬ 
tion of the kind to them, that they would beat his brains out. We yesterday 
heal’d that several of the lieutenants of the ships of the Nore had been made 
commanders, and two of the mids of this ship made lieutenants, on account 
of their conduct in the mutiny. 

“ I thought I could venture to promise one of the men,” (Fleming,) “ be¬ 
longing to this ship, a situation as mate of a West Indiaman, out of Liverpool. ] 
He was principally instrumental in saving my life, when I had fifty pistols 
levelled at my head, and the yard-rope round my neck; and, by his manly 
eloquence, procured a pardon from the delegates, for the Admiral and Cap¬ 
tain, when every one conceived it impossible that they could be saved. He 
is an excellent seaman, and understands navigation; and I will, some of 
these days, shew you some letters of his, in my behalf, that would do honour 
to the most virtuous philanthropist. I wish, very much, to accomplish this 
business, as I cannot sit easy under such a load of gratitude. You shall see 
him whenever we have a peace, and I have told him whether I am at War¬ 
rington” (where his family then lived,) “ or not, that you will be able to 
succeed in executing the plan. You will be very much pleased, I think, 
when you see him, for, in my idea, which, perhaps, may be partial, there 
never was such expressive integrity painted in a man’s countenance.” 

Good, as we all know, often comes out of evil. From the 
time of this formidable mutiny the condition of the common 
sailor has been gradually improved. 

Lieutenant Bover’s admirable conduct was, shortly after this, 
rewarded by promotion. He was gazetted Post-Captain, and 
appointed to the command of the Hecla, not having completed, 
at the time, the 25th year of his age: a period of life seldom 
honoured by so high a rank. He immediately entered on active 
service; and, on the 31st August, 1797, on board the Hecla, at 
Texel, he writes:— 

“ Little did I expect, when you left me, that the next time I wrote to you, 
would be from Texel, either as a conqueror, or a prisoner; but, however, in 
spite of a continued disheartening series of tempestuous weather, and an obsti¬ 
nate and formidable opposition to the lauding, here we are, complete masters 
of all the forts and anchorage, with six sail of the line, four frigates, and five 
Indiamen. The fleet, which was ready for sea under Admiral Storey, consist¬ 
ing of eight sail of the line and four frigates, are moved higher up among the 
shoals, but it is next to impossible, if not quite so, for them to escape. Ad- 


86 


BARTHOMLEY. 


miral Mitchell followed them up, yesterday, with nine sail of the line and se¬ 
veral frigates, and went as high as the wind and tide would allow, which was 
within about four miles of them. He then sent a frigate to summon them 
to surrender, and there is no doubt but that they will be in our possession 
this day, either by capitulation or battle. 

“ The weather has been most uncommonly bad ever since we left England, 
and, for eight days, never allowed us to venture near the coast. On the ninth, 
a deceitful gleam of sunshine, brought us to an anchor off Camperdown, but a 
sudden and violent gale of wind compelled us to put immediately to sea, with 
the loss of a great many anchors, &c. At that time they so little expected 
us in this part, that there would have been no opposition; hut our being 
driven off the coast, gave them time to collect about 5,000 troops, amongst 
which were two battalions of riflemen. On Monday last, we again anchored 
close to the shore, within musket shot. The whole coast here is a range of 
sand-hills, low, and particularly calculated for the deadly operations of these 
riflemen, whom we observed stationing themselves, singly, in the most ad¬ 
vantageous situations. On Tuesday morning, at four o’clock, the flat-boats 
advanced to the inner line of gun-boats and bombs, when the general fire was 
opened with a tremendous cannonade along the beech, which was soon well 
cleared, and the boats moved forwards with three cheers, in the highest order, 
and, almost at the same moment, 7,000 men were landed, the Admiral the 
first man on shore, and after him the General. You will have seen, by the 
Gazette , that the southern division, under Sir James Pulteney, was immedi¬ 
ately engaged, and continued in action several hours on very disadvantageous 
terms; but our troops behaved most incomparably. 

“ The strength of the enemy had, however, been underrated, and, about 
half-past ten, our people were obliged to fall back, and many of our wounded 
fell into the hands of the patriots, who cut their throats, and murdered them 
as fast as they came up with them. The tide was soon turned by the arrival 
of a reinforcement, and the enemy was again driven in on all sides. A body 
of about a thousand cavalry made a desperate charge on the Queen’s and 
another regiment, but they were received on the bayonet in capital style, and 
repulsed with great loss. The action continued till late in the afternoon, 
when the enemy retreated to their fortified camp at Alkmaar, having, by 
estimation, about 2000 men killed and wounded, a great many lying dead on 
the field of battle. 

“ The weather again turned against us, and, before Tuesday noon, the 
wind and sea had increased so much, that there was hardly communica¬ 
tion with the shore. Several boats, and many, both soldiers and sailors, were 
drowned. Before night the communication was entirely cut off, and the 
whole of the troops, with about GOO sailors, lay on the sandhills, without any 
sort of camp equipage, where they have been ever since, as the weather has 
rendered it impossible to land any thing. Most of the transports have now 
got in here, and they will soon have all the comforts which a soldier ever has 
in a late campaign. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


87 


“Sept. 1st.—I am very liappy that, in making this addition, I can give 
you the satisfaction of hearing that the whole Dutch fleet has surrendered. 
When Admiral Mitchell hoisted the orange flag in conjunction with the 
British, the Dutch seamen declared they would not fire a shot at it, so that 
the officers were obliged to give up. It consists of eight sail of the line, 
three frigates, and a sloop of war, but we shall get no prize money, I suppose, 
as they are all taken possession of in trust for the Prince of Orange. We are 
in daily expectation of a body of 16,000 Bussians. Every thing is going on 
as well as it is possible. The patriots are retreating from Alkmaar, and on 
Tuesday our army begins to advance. The weather still continues tremend¬ 
ously had, and I am much afraid there will he some loss amongst the ships 
outside that have not been able to get in. Many have been on shore through 
the fault of pilots, amongst the rest H. M. S. Hecla,” (his own,) “ hut she 
has not received any damage.” 

On the lltli October, Capt. Peter Bover was in the engage¬ 
ment off Camperdown, when the fleet, under Admiral Duncan, 
obtained a hard-fought victory over the Dutch, and the Admiral 
himself a peerage. Subsequently Bover commanded the Blen¬ 
heim, and the Magnificent. He was appointed to the former 
through the interest of Lord St. Vincent, who wrote to him:— 
“Dear Bover, 

“I have named you twice to the Admiralty, and once to an Admiral whose 
Captain was likely to go on shore, and I write in the strongest terms by this 
post to Sir Charles Cotton. 

“ Very sincerely yours, 

“ St. Vincent.” 

Sir Charles Cotton was then Commander-in-chief of the 
Channel fleet. 

In 1800 , Capt. Peter Bover married Miss Cole, sister of Sir 
Christopher Cole, and of Dr. Cole, rector of Exeter college, 
and Vice-Chancellor of the University of Oxford. By this 
lady he had two children, both of whom died young. In the 
latter part of 1802 , he sailed to the West Indies, to the inex¬ 
pressible grief of his family; they had a sad presentiment of 
his impending fate, for two of his brothers had already perished 
there, and they naturally—almost superstitiously—dreaded 
the departure of another brother to this place of insatiable 
death. In 1806 , the fears of his family were realized: he died at 
Jamaica, of the yellow fever. His death overwhelmed them 


88 


BARTHOMLEY. 


with intensest sorrow. He had ever been an affectionate and 
generous son and brother; sharing, with his family, the prize 
money he had gained, and endearing himself to them by little 
traits and acts of kindness, which give so bright a glow to the 
charities of home. A portrait of him is at Stockton Lodge, by 
Opie, but grievously disfigured by the cracks, occasioned ei¬ 
ther by a faulty mixture of colours, or bad varnish. 

Of Captain Bover’s daughters, none, as I have before stated, 
survive:— 

1 . —Maria, the eldest, was one of the famed beauties and wits 
of her day. A charming portrait of her, by Hoppner, belongs to 
my eldest sister. She was never married ; not because she 
had no offers of marriage, for many ‘proposals’ were made to her, 
and twice by men of rank; but an attachment—“ like a worm 
i’th bud,”—nestled in her heart, and, though fervently returned 
by the object of it, was never permitted to reach its long che¬ 
rished hope. She died at Stockton Lodge, (the lease of which 
place was given to her by Sir Peter Warburton,) aged 52, and 
was buried in the family vault, in Grappenhall Church. 

2 . —Sophia, married, in 1784, Edw. Dicconson, Esq., of 
Wrightington Park, one of the old Roman Catholic families of 
Lancashire. He died without issue. His estates are now pos¬ 
sessed by C. Scarisbrick, Esq. He was a close adherent to the 
‘young Pretender’; many of the Roman Catholic families being 
immovably attached to the Stuart dynasty. He was, according¬ 
ly, much in France; in fact, spent the greater part of his youth 
there, and acquired the appearance, manners, and liveliness of 
the Frenchman. He was old when I knew him, being many 
years in advance of his wife, and I was but a child; yet, I 
well remember my visits to Wrightington, and the fun I had 
with him in the old-fashioned long gallery of the hall. He 
was up to all kinds of frolic, so welcome to children, but 
did not confine them to children alone; he used to tell, 
with much glee, the tricks he played upon older ones, and 
more especially one upon a French friend. This gentle- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


89 


man was on a visit at Wrightington, and one evening, after 
dinner, held an argument with Mr. Dicconson, respecting the 
comparative excellence of the climates of Great Britain and 
France. Mr. Dicconson, simply for amusement, maintaining 
that ours was equally as good as that of France. Of course, the 
Frenchman went to bed wholly unconvinced. Early the next 
morning Mr. Dicconson sent for the gardener, and, to his aston¬ 
ishment, ordered him to take up a lot of pine apples, and plant 
them at stated distances, in a part of the park under tillage. 
After breakfast, he proposed a walk to his friend, and, as if by 
accident, led him to this spot. The pine apples soon caught the 
Frenchman’s eye, who, with an air of uncertainty, asked, “ What 
in the world are these?” “Pine apples,” said Mr. D., with a 
matter of course manner. “ Pine apples ! In France we rear 
them in liot-houses, but how is this ? Do they bear to be in 
the open air in your climate ?” “ You see, my friend, how they 
are growing here, and looking well, too !” The Frenchman was 
staggered; and went away from Wrightington, his prejudice 
against the beau climat of England, which permitted pine 
apples to flourish in the open air, being, of course, removed! 

An anecdote of another Frenchman, (the priest of his own 
domestic chapel,) was a favourite one with him. At that time 
many French priests fled from their revolutionized country to 
this, and were immediately attached, where they could be, to 
the English Roman Catholic families; and gay and agreeable 
men they were, and ingenious in handicraft above measure. 
One of these was at Wrightington. My aunt was fond of “ the 
feathered songsters of the grove,” and could not bear their 
nests to be taken. In the park was an elevated ground, covered 
with trees and bushes, called Foumart-hill, much frequented by 
birds; and here the children, most of them Roman Catholics, 
used to come and commit their hated depredations. Mr. 
Dicconson complained to the French priest, and requested 
him to interfere and check the evil. The following Sunday 
he addressed the little culprits from the pulpit, in his usual 

M 


90 


BARTHOMLEY. 


broken English, thus:—“ You girls and boys! do you mind ? 
I do hear from de good lady of dis house, dat you do go up 
de hill of Foumart, and do rob her bird’s nests. Now, I tell 
you, if ever you do such ting again, by G—! I will not give 
you absolution!” The good man did not intend to swear, but 
only to give the most solemn character to his threat. But, alas! 
‘the oath’—as it sounded to English ears—and the broken 
English, with a strong French accent, completely neutralised 
his threat. Squire, old, and young, roared again with laughter. 

One to whom the ‘young Pretender’ was much attached, 
Colonel Nairn, received from the Prince a handsome snuff-box, 
having, in the centre, a highly finished miniature of Charles 
Edward; this the Colonel presented to Mrs. Dicconson, and it 
now belongs to your eldest aunt. 

After Mr. Dicconson’s decease, his widow took up her abode 
at Stockton Lodge, with her sister Maria, and followed her to 
the grave, in 1820. 

3.—Anne, married the Bev. Edward Hinchliffe, rector of Bar- 
thomley. All who knew her will remember her sprightly wit 
and conversational powers : inheriting from her father the live¬ 
liness and the bel esprit of the French. She excelled in letter¬ 
writing. Those addressed to us when children, were particularly 
clever, especially in their adaptation to our several tastes, pur¬ 
suits, &c. No home-object was overlooked to give them zest: 
the farm, stables, and poultry-yards were ransacked for topics of 
interest; and the events of the parish were laid, in their respec¬ 
tive circumstances, before us. And as we grew to man’s estate, 
the tone of her letters became more elevated: childish things 
were put away, and varied information vied with deep affection, 
to charm us. 

Private theatricals were the fashion of that day, and prior to 
her marriage she was famed for her exquisite and versatile 
powers of acting. Her Desdemona, and the late Lord West¬ 
minster’s Othello, were said to equal anything on the stage. 

1 must tell you of a remarkable coincidence, which affected 


BARTHOMLEY. 


91 


her deeply, immediately after her marriage. The first time she 
went to Barthomley church, she saw hanging on the walls, near 
the pew in which she was seated, the achievements of her ma¬ 
ternal ancestry; and, next to them, were the achievements, also, 
of her husband’s maternal ancestry. She was ignorant of the 
fact that Bradeley Hall was in the parish of Barthomley, and 
had not the remotest thought, that the union which brought 
her to Barthomley, would, also, bring her to the burial place 
of her forefathers. 

In the Gentleman’s Magazine, (New Series, July, 1843,) it is 
stated: 

“ Miss Bover, with her sisters, was received into the first circle of society 
in the county of Chester, and was a constant visitor, also, at the houses of 
the leading gentry in the adjoining counties. The three sisters might, in¬ 
deed, I think, have proved, if not successful rivals, at least fair competitors, 
for the palm of beauty and attraction, with the lovely and accomplished 
Misses Gunning.” 

Be that as it may, their fascinations, and cultivated minds, 
brought many, of all ranks, to their humble dwelling-place, in 
the town of Warrington; and some of the highest station were 
content with their frugal hospitality, in order to participate the 
pleasure to be derived from their agreeable society. The Duke 
of Gloucester, when commanding the district, condescended to 
visit them. 

A monument, in Grappenhall Church, has the following 
inscription:— 

In memory of 
John Bover, Esquire, 

A Post-captain in the Royal Navy, 
who died at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 
on the 20 th May, 1782. 

Also of Mary, Relict 

OF THE ABOVE NAMED JOHN BOVER, 

WHO DIED ON THE 2 nd JANUARY, 1794. 

ALSO OF THEIR CHILDREN 

John, Sophia, Peter, and Elizabeth 

WHO DIED YOUNG; 

James, who died on the 17 th Dec r - 1769; 

John, a Lieut, in the Royal Navy; 


92 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Henry, a midshipman in the Royal Navy; 

William, a Lieut, in the 41 st Regt. Foot; 

Peter, a Post-Captain in the Royal Navy; 

Mary; 

Sophia, Reltct of 

Edward Dicoonson, Esq re of Wrigbtington, 
in the County of Lancaster; 

George Bover, Esq re , 
of Stockton Lodge in this County, 
a deputy Lieutenant 
of the County Palatine of Lancaster, 

WHO DIED ON THE 15 th DAY OF JULY, 1839, 

AGED 75 YEARS. 

Mrs. Hinchliffe died at Stockton Lodge, March 26, 1850, 
and the family of Bover became extinct. 

I shall now wind up my account of this family with a kind of 
supplement, which, I think, will amuse you. 

Private theatricals, I have told you, were the rage in the 
days of my mother’s youth, and Eaton Hall, the seat of Earl 
Grosvenor, was frequently enlivened by them; and more es¬ 
pecially on one occasion, the coming of age of Lord Belgrave, 
afterwards the first Marquis of Westminster. 

The three sisters were of the party assembled at Eaton, to 
celebrate this event: and the following extracts from a little 
book, yclep’d the “ Salt-Box,” shall tell their own tale, a tale 
•which illustrates, very forcibly, the doings of the * olden time.’ 

I must premise, that the introduction of the “ Salt-Box” 
was written by the far-famed Giffard, the editor of the Quar¬ 
terly Review, and, on that occasion, the editor of this amateur 
work:— 

“ To the Reader. 

“ If the following sheets were to he seen only by the persons immediately 
concerned, who were at once the writers, and the subjects of them, no intro¬ 
duction would be necessary; but, as they may hereafter fall into the hands 
of such as stand in no kind of relation to them, a short account of their 
origin, &c., has been judged indispensible. 

“ In the summer of 1788, Lord Grosvenor invited a numerous party of 
his relations, friends, and acquaintance, to Eaton Hall, to celebrate the 
birth-day of Lord Belgrave, who came to age in the spring of that year. As 
they met before the arrival of the period peculiarly set apart for the festival, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


93 


his Lordship proposed, in a sportive moment, that a little journal should be 
kept of their proceedings, and produced every morning at breakfast. As this 
could not occupy a large space, he farther proposed to admit any little piece 
of prose, or verse, whose subject might not be entirely foreign from the com¬ 
pany; and it was hoped, by these means, that a sheet might be served up 
every morning with the tea. The paper took its name from a Salt Box, 
which was appointed to receive the contributions. This was examined 
every evening, and the contents arranged and transcribed by the writer of 
this introduction, who had the honour of being appointed Editor. 

“ As these sheets were not intended for the world, no apology is necessary 
for them. Should they, however, meet the eye of any that were not present 
at their birth, it is but justice to remind them, that they ought to judge with 
candour, of what was almost instantaneously produced, amidst a variety of 
avocations, that left little leisure for accuracy, and less for revision and 
amendment. During the greatest part of the time, the Salt-Box regularly ac¬ 
companied the breakfast; and the little occurrences of one morning were 
committed to paper, and read over the next. The ‘nonum prematur in an¬ 
num’ was never more glaringly neglected. 

“ It is to be lamented, that this work will have the fate of all local and 
temporary productions. The little strokes that were perfectly obvious to the 
company, will escape the notice of the common reader; and the “flashes of 
merriment (and many such there were,) that set the table in a roar, will be 
censured as impertinent, or pitied as insufferably dull. Yet, with all these 
deductions, enough will remain to shew, that among the contributors to this 
publication, there were writers of no common abilities; who wanted but 
effort to became great, and time to become correct, who, amidst the distrac¬ 
tion of ever-varied amusement, and the dissipation of long-continued festivi¬ 
ty, could assume the character of the moment, and be frolicsome with grace, 
and serious with dignity. The Editor cannot conclude, without expressing 
his gratitude for the indulgence he experienced in the execution of his office. 
He can truly say, that his sole ambition was to justify the prediction of his 
friends, that neither in what he rejected, nor in what he admitted, was he 
guided by caprice: and that whenever he found himself under the necessity 
of making any trifling alteration, he always did it with tenderness, and to 
the best of his judgment, confoimable to the mind of the author. Still, how¬ 
ever, he is sensible how much he was indebted to their partiality, and it is 
with the sincerest pleasure he seizes the present opportunity of thanking 
them for extending it towards him in the most unreserved manner. 

“The Editor of the Salt-Box.” 

“ Eaton Hall, 1789.” 

This preface gives you a better insight into the use of the 
“ Salt-box” than I can; it was the record-chest of the gay pro¬ 
ceedings of the party assembled at Eaton Hall, so far back as 


94 


BARTHOMLEY. 


1789; and its papers disclose—in the best, because the freest 
and most familiar, manner—the little differences which distin¬ 
guish past from present society. 

I shall not sprinkle before you every grain of attic salt this 
box contains, but only those which will transfer a savour to our 
history of the three sisters. In number 3 of its contents, Sept. 
1, we find this letter, introduced by a few explanatory remarks 
of the Editor:— 

“ As a regard for the interests of our noble host, supersedes with us every 
other consideration, we take the earliest opportunity of publishing the fol¬ 
lowing letter:— 

* To the Editor of the Salt-box. 

‘ Sir,—As the proprietor of these gardens and woods prides himself on 
his oak trees, it were to be wished that no melancholy and rhyming lovers 
would carve their fantastic verses on their bark. As I flatter myself that I 
am not deficient in my duty, it is paying me hut a bad compliment to sup¬ 
pose they can escape my observation. I inclose you, therefore, Mr. Editor, 
a copy of the following verses, which I discovered carved upon an oak, in a 
recluse part of the grove. 

‘I am, &c., 

‘R. Bartlet Pince, 

‘ (Head-Gardener at Eaton.) 

* Happy, happy, happy lover, 

That can engage the charming Bover! 

Were I to walk from hence to Dover, 

There’s nothing like the charming Bover! 

Who can hereafter be a Rover, 

When they have seen the dear Miss Bover? 

What charms! what sense! you do discover, 

When you converse with sprightly Bover! 

All who have seen her, then, must surely love her, 

So sweet, so dear a creature is the Bover!.’ ” 

Hamlet was the tragedy selected for representation at these 
festivities. In the same number, page 24, it is announced :— 

“ Yesterday, the rehearsal of Hamlet, which is to be performed by the 
ladies and gentlemen of Eaton Hall, took place at twelve o’clock. Miss G., 
who plays the part of the Queen, went through the two acts which were 
represented, with the greatest propriety. She spoke in an emphatical and 
graceful manner. Miss Anne Bover, we are happy to find, is to play Ophe¬ 
lia; and she read her part in such a style, as to promise a most excellent re¬ 
presentation of that pleasing character. The performance gave great satis¬ 
faction to all who were present; and our noble host, who is so good as to 


BARTHOMLEY. 


95 


lake upon him the task of manager and director, expressed his approbation 
in the highest terms.” 


In page 47 is given the “ Cast of the Characters” :— 


Hamlet,... 

King,. 

Polonius, and First Grave Digger,. 

Horatio,. 

Laertes,... 

Guildenstern, Osric, and Second Grave Digger, 

Bernardo, and Lucianus,. 

Marcellus, and Player King,. 

Ghost, . 

Gertrude,. 

Ophelia, . . . 


.LORD BELGRAVE. 

.R. GROSVENOR, ESQ. 

.T. GROSVENOR, ESQ. 

R. D. GROSVENOR, ESQ. 
.MARQUIS OF WORCESTER. 

.MR. EATON. 

....MR. BOYDELL. 

.MR. FORDEN. 

.MR. HAILSTONE. 

.MISS GROSVENOR. 

.MISS ANNE BOVER. 


In page 96 a corrected list is given, with the addition of— 

Player Queen, ..MRS. DICCONSON. 

And, also, a list of those who figured in “ High Life below 
Stairs”:— 


Lovel’s Servants, 


Lovel,. 

Freeman,. 

Philip,. 

Kingston, a black, .... 

Tom, . 

Coachman,. 

Duke’s Servant, . 

Sir Harry’s Servant,.... 

Robert (Freeman’s servant), . 

Mrs. Kitty, . 

Cook, .y Lovel’s Servants. 

Cliloe,. ) 

Lady Bab’s Servant, . 

Lady Charlotte’s Servant, . 


.R. GROSVENOR, ESQ. 

.MR. HAILSTONE. 

’ R. D. GROSVENOR, ESQ. 
MR. EATON. 

MARQUIS OF WORCESTER. 
. E. DICCONSON, ESQ. 

.T. GROSVENOR, ESQ. 

.LORD BELGRAVE. 

.MR. PORDEN. 

C MISS BOVER. 

.■! MISS A. BOVER. 

(. LADY BROMLEY. 

.MRS. DICCONSON. 

..MISS GROSVENOR. 


Theatricals, as you may suppose, were not the only amuse¬ 
ments of these joyous beings. A voyage was proposed to the 


party, and, as you have not been at Eaton Hall, it wdll be ne¬ 


cessary to tell you that the river Dee flows through its grounds, 
and adds much to their beauty. I present you with the narra¬ 
tive of the voyage, from the “ Salt-box” :— 

“Sept. 13. 

“ The Voyage : 

“A Fragment: 


Illi robur et ses triplex 
Circa pectus erat, qui fragilem truci 
Commisit pelago ratem 
Primus -- 


Sure, oak or brass with triple fold, 

That hardy mortal’s daring breast enroll’d, 

Who first to the wild billows’ strife, 

In a frail bark, dared to commit his life.—II or. 
































06 


BARTHOMLEY. 


«_Accordingly, we set out from the terrace, at the bottom of the gar¬ 

den, in great spirits. Just as we passed the last door, Miss C. said she had 
left her prayer-book behind; upon which Lord B. said he would fetch it, 
and, before she could answer, was out of sight. She then recollected that she 
had the key of the harpsichord in her pocket, and said she would just step 
back with it, and be with us again in a twinkling. Lady B. said she did 
not mind it, for that she liked a sea voyage ‘of all things,’ whispering, at the 
same time, to Capt. G., to know if there was any danger? What the Cap¬ 
tain said, escaped us; but Mrs. Dicconson, who overheard it, pretended that 
her hair was falling about her ears, and begged Lady B. to assist her in 
putting it up; upon which they desired us to go on, and they would over¬ 
take us: but Mr. G, looking back about a minute afterwards, saw them 
both scrambling over the garden wall, and we heard no more of them. As 
we passed the blacksmith’s shop, Mr. H. turned pale, upon which Mr. Dic¬ 
conson asked Lord W. if he was provided as usual ? The Marquis pointed 
to his pocket, and the Professor’s countenance immediately brightened up. 
There was no room for more, for the expanse of water was now in sight, and 
we walked with slow and silent steps down to the beach, where the vessel 
stood ready to receive us. Here follow the names of the modern argonauts, 
who embarked on this perilous adventure: Miss G., Miss Bover, Miss E. 
G., Miss Anne Bover, (these some future bard shall celebrate in strains wor¬ 
thy of their intrepidity, and generous contempt of ease,) Mr. Dicconson, 
Marquis of'W., Rev. Mr. T., Mr. T. G., Mr. E., Mr. H., and Mr. G. 

“ While the rowers were preparing their oars, all was high courage and 
contempt of danger; but when the vessel had put off, and the well-known 
shores began to recede, Miss E. G. cast a wishful eye towards Eaton Hall, 
and begged to be re-landed; alleging that she had left her little affairs in a 
very unsettled state, and did not know what might happen. The moment 
the vessel put in, Mr. George T. rushed by the company, and leaped ashore 
before her, declaring he had seen a wild ox about the lanes, and could not 
think of suffering her to return alone. Having taken an affectionate leave 
of the rev. gentleman and his fair charge, we turned the prow once more 
from the shore, and pushed into the great deep. 

“ And now melancholy sensations took possession of every breast, and all 
began to muse with growing tenderness on the dear connections they had 
left behind, when Mr. E. broke silence, and said, ‘ He wondered why water 
was liquid.’ Mr. G. replied, he supposed it was because it was made of rain. 
This called up Mr. H., who quoted a Greek line, to prove that it could not 
be otherwise, which satisfied the company. After this sally all seemed to be 
relapsing into their former dejection, when Miss Bover called on Capt. G. 
for a song. The Captain began, ‘ 0! a pit of clay for to be made, &c.’ which 
Mr. G. said was ominous, and struck up ‘ When, as we sat in Babylon. 
This seemed to meet the ideas of the company, and was sweetly echoed 
round the neighbouring shores, when Mr. Dicconson cried out, that we were 


BARTHOMLEY. 


97 


running upon the breakers ! Instantly, all was terror and confusion. Miss 
Anne Bover began her prayers in an audible voice, while Mr. G. fell a cry¬ 
ing, and said, he was the hopes of his family. On the other side, Mr. H. ob¬ 
served, with a great oath, that he never knew any good come o’canting and 
whining; and advised all possible endeavours to be made to save the vessel. 
This was done, and we had the pleasure to see her wear about a cable’s 
length from the shore, and stand out to sea. As soon as our spirits were a 
little calmed, we proceeded to enquire into the cause of the late oversight, 
which had so nearly proved fatal to us all; when it was found, that Capt. G., 
instead of minding the helm, had been * playing with the tangles of Miss 
Bover s hair’; and, as a suitable punishment for them both, she was ordered 
to pull off her shoes, into which the Captain’s hands were inserted, and firm¬ 
ly tied down with Miss Anne’s garters. This done, Miss G. proposed, as a 
means to recover the good humour of the crew, that we should have a round 
at—* What is my thought like?’ and began with asking the question,— 


U 


What is my thought like? 


/ Lord W.—It is like nothing. 

Miss Bover.—It is like a family bible. 

Miss Anne Bover.—It is like a pound of beef 
suet. (Maintaining her character of cook.) 
Mr. Dicconson.—It is like Miss E. G. 

Capt. G.—It is like the Mambrino colt. 

Mr. H.—-It is like a draw-well. 

Mr. E.—It is like a pig. 

^Mr. G.—It is like Bobby Nobbs. 


Lord W.? because it has no equal. 

Miss Bover.? because its leaves are often 
turned over. 

Miss A. B. ? forfeit. 

Mr. D. ? answers itself. 

Capt. G.? because its head is too big for its 
body. 

Mr. H. ? because it’s the sweeter the nearer 
you go to the bottom. 

Mr. E.? (after repeated calls,) because I’m 
plagued about it. 

Mr. G.? forfeit, but Miss Anne Bover said, 

because it is short lived; and Lord W, because it has many b-s about it; 
upon which Mr. G. was handed out of the circle, and declared incapable of 
contributing to the entertainment in future. 

“ While the second round was going on, an alarm was given that some¬ 
thing was coming towards us, over the surface of the waves. Lord W. de¬ 
clared it was a mermaid; at which Mr. G. expressed his joy, as he had never 
seen one. Miss Bover said mermaids were green, and this, whatever it was, 


“ Miss G.:—I thought of a 
Kose, 

“ Why is it like. 


N 







98 


BARTHOMLEY. 


was black and white; upon which Mr. H. gave it as his opinion, that it was 
a porpoise Mr. E. asked what a porpoise was, and being told a sea-pig, 
jumped up, and begged to be put ashore immediately; but, Mr. Dicconson 
shewing him a large stye on the beach, he sat down again, and sobbed 
bitterly, repeating from Dr. Watts,—. 

** * So thick are ills on every hand, 

That cautions nought avail us. 

And pigs by sea, and pigs by land. 

Stand ready to assail us.’ 

(In a previous number his adventure with a pig had caused some fun.) “ By 
this time the object was nearly alongside, and proved to be a dead dog. 
This was a matter of great consolation to us all; and to increase our joy, the 
man at the watch called out, that he saw Sam Davis’s house; upon which 
we corrected our reckoning, and pushed on with good assurance Nothing 
material occurred till we came opposite the unfinished mansion on the hill, 
where we saw a beautiful female sitting on the grass, and sucking her 
thumbs with marvellous perseverance. We concluded her, at first, to be the 
Dryad of the neighbouring trees: but, some one observing that her hair was 
not green, we were induced to change that opinion, and to take her for a 
syren, stationed there to allure unwary mariners to their destruction. When 
the point was settled, Capt. G. said, he had somewhere read that syrens 
had fishes’ tails; and proposed going on shore to examine if it were really 
so. This was strenuously opposed by the whole crew, and the rowers were 
ordered to exert themselves till they got to a secure distance from her 
haunts. We now entered an immense reach; and, as the wind was gentle, 
and the water smooth, amused ourselves with an elaborate dissertation on the 
nature and extent of tides. Mr. H., who (except in the article of swearing, 
in which he was countenanced by Lord W.,) was exceedingly instructive, 
told us that Aristotle (here Miss G. fell asleep,) drowned himself because— 
but we shall pass over his most learned discourse at the present, as we in¬ 
tend it for a separate work; premising only, that it gave general satisfaction. 
By this time we had passed the reach, and were turning to windward, round 
a vast projection of rocks, when Mr. E., observing some large oaks on the 
summit, begged we might put in for a moment, and take a few acorns on 
board, to divert the fury of the swine, in case we met with any. This was 
agreed to; but, just as we had reached the shore, a most dreadful hissing as¬ 
sailed our ears, and drove us back affrighted. The confusion this occasioned 
waked Miss G, who gave it as her opinion, that the oaks were sacred, and 
guarded by dragons. The Captain was of the same mind, and advised a 
speedy retreat; at the same time directing Miss Bover’s eye to a certain pro¬ 
tuberance between the clefts, he asked her if she did not see the head of some¬ 
thing? Before she could answer, a flock of geese waddled out, and, filing off 
in pairs, marched up the hill in good order. Lord W. said, they put him in 
mind of the guards marching to the bank. The Captain pretended not to 
hear this, but offered, if they would untie his hands, to head any party that 


BARTHOMLEY. 


99 


chose to pursue them, as he thought there was still a probability of cutting 
off the rear. Mr. H. licked his lips at this, and asked Mr. E. if he thought 
an action would lie? Mr. E. replied, that depended on their being ferce 
natures; a point which he could not immediately decide; and while he was 
endeavouring to recollect it, the geese effected their escape. 

“We had now measured an immense track, and the thoughts of home 
took possession of every breast; but our adventurous pilot, Miss Bover, was 
yet unsatisfied, and, at her instigation, we bore away for Eccleston. We 
sailed for some time without any occurrence worth recording, except that a 
motion was made and carried, for setting the Captain’s hands at liberty, 
when, as we hauled round a certain point, we espied a creature, shaped like 
a man, fishing. He hailed us with great civility, but we kept at a wary dis¬ 
tance from him; for, as we were unacquainted with the country, we knew 
not but that he might be one of the anthropophagi. This idea damped our 
spirits a little, which the Marquis observing, gave every on^ a sup of his 
bottle, and then, with great good-nature, offered to tell a story of a ghost. This 
was accepted, and we all crowded round him, when the whole was embroiled 
by a violent dispute, between Mr. E. and Mr. H., about the colour of a king¬ 
fisher; Mr. H. asserting it was blue; and Mr. E. grey. In vain did the for¬ 
mer quote the antient writers in defence of his opinion: Mr. E. modestly re¬ 
plied, that things might be changed since their time; that he had seen the 
bird fly across the meadow, and could not possibly be mistaken: adding, 
that the matter might be speedily decided, as he had followed him with his 
eye into a hollow-tree, and would bet ten to one it was as he said. The 
wager being accepted, Mr. G-. was set ashore with an oar, to dislodge the 
bird in dispute He walked up to the tree, and giving it two or three lusty 
blows, put out—an owl! !! Upon this Mr. E. cried out he had won the 
money, every body stared; but, as there seemed to be something extremely 
odd in the business, the judges ordered the stakes to be drawn. 

This was the last occurrence of our eventful voyage; for now the towers 
of Eccleston were in view; a voyage—which only wants the pen of an Apol¬ 
lonius, or a Valerius, to be celebrated as that of the Argonauts, who did not 
excel the Eatonians in valour, and who, bating the transient concupiscence 
of Mr. H. after the geese, were infinitely inferior to them in honesty.” 

I have often heard your grandmother tell the ventures of 
this voyage, and though some little additions to the actual 
occurrences and conversations are made in this “fragment,” 
the main particulars of the trip are faithfully recorded. Alto¬ 
gether, the fragment is both humorous and clever, and gives, in 
its familiar way, a picture of the manners and amusements of 
that day, to the life. They have changed, and, I may dare to 
say, improved, since then. Noblemen do not swear now; and, 


> > S 


100 


BARTHOMLEY. 


on aquatic excursions, young gentlemen do not play with young 
ladies’ hair; nor will the delinquent, if he did, be punished for 
his crime, by being hand-cuffed with a fair one’s garters. In 
spite of the much tallied of gallantry of those days, I doubt 
not, that the Captain rejoiced in his release from these soft- 
ligatures of bondage! 

I must not forget to give you the 

“ Epilogue : 

“ Written for Miss A. Bover, in the character of the Cools. 

“ What mean these sighs, these tears ? The play is over, 

I’m not Ophelia now, but—Miss Anne Bover. 

‘ Too much of water’ I’ve already had, 

No more of that, for I’m no louger mad. 

Ladies and Gentlemen ! ’tis now my turn 
To play the Cook, and in the kitchen hum. 

Adieu, Laertes, and farewell sweet Hamlet; 

I now must roast a duck, or fry an omelet! 

You’ll all agree they give poor me no quarter: 

Heels over head they souse me in the water, 

And then to dry me (out of poor compassion,) 

They roast me in the kitchen in this fashion. 

C'est assez plaisant, as the French cooks say, 

Yet I’d as lieve be dress’d another way; 

But let that pass:—with equal zeal I’ll try 
To play Ophelia, and to bake a pie: 

For tho’ as some, I’m not so stout and lusty, 

It never shall be said that I run crusty. 

’Tis mine a brilliant supper to prepare 
For Master Philip, and his Kitty fair; 

And nobly, too, they’ll fare, who trust in me 
For fricandeau, for soup, and fricassee : 

But, gentle audience, I again implore 
The same indulgence you have shewn before ; 

As you allow’d me in the play to pass, 

I beg you will not roast me in the farce.” 

Her petition was granted. In number 18 we read:— 

“ The following is taken verbatim from the Chester Chronicle of yesterday, 
(Sept. 21st.)—‘ A better representation of the fair Ophelia could not easily be, 

found.The farce was High Life below Stairs. Lord Belgrave and Mr. 

T. Grosvenor, played Sir Harry’s and the Duke’s servants, with admirable 



BARTHOMLEY. 


101 


caricature and effect; and Miss Grosvenor and Mrs. Dicconson, Lady Char¬ 
lotte and Lady Bab, with spirit and humour. Miss Bover played Kitty with 
sprightliness, and in some of her repartees was uncommonly happy; and M iss 
Anne Bover, to shew the versatility of her talents, undertook the little part 
of the Cook, which, with incomparable spirit, she brought forward, and made 
most laughably characteristic. The other parts were well supported, parti¬ 
cularly Lovel’s, by Mr. R. Grosvenor/ ” 

We will now bid farewell to Eaton Hall, and close the Salt- 

i 

box with a well-written, piquant lamentation, (I believe, by 
Giffard,) containing a summary allusion to many events which 
occurred at this merry meeting:— 


“THE TEARS 

« Lament in verse, lament in prose, 

With salt tears trickling down your nose, 

My miserable fall; 

1 that was late so pert, and vain, 

Must change to grave, the flippant strain— 
Adieu! God bless you all! 

Can none remember ? Yes, I know. 

All can, all do—the vivid glow 

That rose at—‘hear him! hear!’ 

When Giffard, *with important look. 

The Salt-box from his pocket took, 

And turn’d about his chair. 

Now all is chang’d. Content you sit, 

And hear dull facts, for sprightly wit, 

Nodding to th’ gen’ral hum; 

While Giffard watches every eye, 

And waits in vain to hear you cry, 

‘ When will the Salt-box come?’ 

Ye all are sufferers, trust me, fair! 

Who now shall make your charms his care? 

And frame the rapturous lay ? 

Who watchful waste the midnight oil, 

O’er painful prose, when all his toil 
There’s nothing to display ? 

Maria 1 now may wake the lyre 
To sounds that every heart inspire 
With harmony and joy; 

And tuneful Harriet 2 sing in vain, 

And soft Eliza 3 join the strain— 

Their notes but sooth—and die! 

1 Miss Grosvenor. S Miss H. Curzon. 3 Miss E. Curzon. 

And vainly Emma raise alarms 
In many a breast, and Bover’s charms 
O’er half the forest bloom; 

And Anne’s, 4 sweet Anne’s bewitching wile. 
The unsuspecting heart beguile 
Of all its peace to come. 

4 Miss A. Bover. 


OE THE SALT-BOX. 

And, gentles! ye are sufferers too: 

For all ye say, and all ye do. 

Drops dead-born, (to be frank) 

Ye wake, ye sleep.—no friendly pen 
Records your life—ye wake again 
And still ’tis all a blank! 

Who now, when pouring o’er the plain. 
With hound and horn, ye spoil the grain, 
And bats and hedgehogs worry; 

Or when, more venturous still, ye brave, 
In a frail bark, the wind and wave. 

Who shall record your glory ? 

The Captain now, with careless air. 

May toy with sprightly Bover’s hair, 

The while his post he quits; 

And Grosvenor leap with all his might. 
To shew his clumsiness; and fright 
The ladies into fits. 

Well-natur’d Worcester too, may row, 
And Hailstone prose, his Greek to shew, 
And both may swear in vain: 

And Dicconson look sharply out. 

And modest Eaton make a doubt 
About the use of rain. 

Poor Porden, too, his fall may wail; 

And Dyson shew his fiery tail 
Amidst the gen’ral grin; 

An d Curzon mount his hooded horse, 
An d impious wasps, without remorse. 
Assault the parson’s chin. 

But thou, 0 Belgrave! chief of all, 

Hast cause to deprecate my fall, 

For thou wert oft my theme; 

Nor did I e’er such pleasure find. 

As when I held a verse consign’d. 

To thy much honour’d name. 






102 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Who now will sing, in heart-felt strains, 
The triumph of thy native plains 
At those auspicious days; 

When the rude hards no longer hope, 

The Salt-box will its bosom ope. 

To their incondite lays! 

And trust me, youth, these good Old Halls, 
Have oft re-echoed round their walls 
The voice of general mirth; 

And oft thy Sires have brought along 
Relations, friends, a numerous throng, 

To celebrate their birth. 

And oft around the joyous board 
The nut-brown bowl, with nectar stor’d, 
Has walk’d from day to day; 

But fate forbade these times to last— 

The laugh, the song, the triumph, past, 
Like summer-clouds, away. 

Oft, oft, ere this, has Eaton seen 
Disporting o’er her flowery green, 

Gay youths, and blooming maids; 

And lips, and cheeks, of roseate hue, 

And humid eyes of sapphire blue. 

Adorn her sacred shades. 

Sweet maids—ye fair ones! haply known 
For charms unequall’d, like your own; 

But ah 1 unlike their lot; 

In vain was youth’s, was beauty’s pride, 
They had no salt-box, and they dy’d; 

They dy’d, and were forgot 1 

While ye, when Time’s relentless hand. 
Shall level all Sir Thomas planned, 

And level all it must; 

Preserv’d in my immortal page, 

Shall flourish still from age to age, 
Triumphant o’er the dust. 


And cannot thoughts like these, inspire 
The generous wish, the warm desire. 

To grasp at higher praise ? 

0 , fatal apathy of fame 1 
Content but half to raise your name, 
But half content to please 1 


By way of Postscript —yet a word; 

You have some interest with my Lord, 
(The ladies always had.) 

Pray ask him to avert my fate— 

To sink me to my former state. 

Would be to drive me mad. 

Even now I hear, or seem to hear. 

The buzz of triumph, far and near— 

And lo 1 at my return, 

The pots and pans their station quit, 

And grow profane my fall to twit. 

With more envenom’d scorn. 

‘ Salt-box! what! after all this fuss. 

Art Thou brought low, like one of us, 

And doom’d to servile uses? 

Vain Fool! thou saidst, * I will ascend 
To the Saloon’—now see, what end, 
O’er-weening pride produces I 

* All the Salt-boxes left below, 

Enjoy their place in peace,.while Thou, 
Spurn’d by thy quondam friends, 
Shalt in some dirty hole be jamm’d, 

Stript of thy new brass lock, and cramm’d 
With stinking candle ends.’ 

0 let him save me from these taunts. 

And lock me up, far from the haunts 
Of kitchen maids, and cooks; 

So shall I on some future day. 

When you return,—my thanks repay. 

And put Him in my books 1” 


I heartily hope this pathetic prayer was heard, and that even 
now, in the new and splendid halls of Eaton, some honourable 
place has been assigned to the “Salt-box;” there to remain a 
relic of by-gone happy days; and when it shall he asked, 
What means this plain and singular looking article amidst the 
costly gems which surround it? let an inscription, not upon its 
own hallowed frame, hut near it, simply say—“ This is The 
Salt-box.” 

I have now concluded all I have to say in connection with 
the Rectors of Barthomley, excepting that my successor, the 
present Rector, the Rev. Edward Buncombe, has repaired, and 





BARTHOMLEY. 


103 


in part restored, tlie old church, in a very efficient manner; so 
that my account of it, which describes it as it was, is perhaps 
more interesting and valuable—if value it lias at all—by re¬ 
ferring to the past. We have not yet done with persons. This 
letter is long, therefore I will treat further of them in the next. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XI. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

and 
Bar- 
for 
pre- 
the 

township: Latham, Bourne, Ford, Whittaker, Thornhill, B eh - 
bington, Bennion, Martin, Stringer, have supplied the place with 
farmers; whilst shopkeepers and artificers have rejoiced in the 
names of Lunt, 1 Astbury, Bradshaw, Higginson, Slierwin, and 

1 In the sixteenth century resided in Barthomley, a tenant and assistant steward 
to Robert Fulleshurst, Esquire, named Robert Lunt, (son of Ralph Lunt, of Crewe, 
also a Tenant under the Fulleshursts,) who at the age of upwards of sixty gave 
evidence (in 1586,) in a suit then pending in the Court of Wards, on behalf of his 
landlord ; and in 1612, when eighty-eight years of age, he was examined as a wit¬ 
ness in a suit in the Court of Exchequer at Chester, in behalf of his then landlord, 
Sir Randulph Crewe, concerning a right of Turbary on Oakhanger Moss, in Has- 
lington; and again, in 1633, when one hundred and nine years old, he (with Roger 
Blagg, aged ninety, and thirty other ancient witnesses, whose united ages reached 
two thousand years) was examined in another suit in the Exchequer at Chester, in 
relation to other rights of Sir Randulph Crewe. 

The date of Robert Lunt’s death cannot be stated with certainty; hut the Bar¬ 
thomley Register for the year 1655 records, “ Robert Lunt, of Barthomley, buried 
the eighteenth day of July.” Yet, strange to relate, no mention of age! Never- 



iip^E come now to other characters, some dead, 

., 


some living, which serve to distinguish ] 
thomley. The parish books and registers, 
jf between three and four hundred years hack, 
sent to us many of the same names which flourish still in 









104 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Gibson. This speaks well for both landlord and tenant: a 
shifting population, in agricultural districts, portends something 
wrong in one or the other. 4 Sherwin’ and ‘Astbury’ have given 
to us a race of carpenters; ‘ Higginson,’ of tailors and shoe¬ 
makers; 4 Bradshaw,’ of shopkeepers, publicans, and joiners; 
‘ Limit/ of shoemakers and farmers; and 4 Gibson/ of black¬ 
smiths. From some of these, generally, not always, the ‘parish 
clerk ’ was chosen: and, as he is next in ecclesiastical order 
to the parson, so let him next be spoken of. A list of clerks, 
with the dates of their appointments, resignations, or deaths, 
cannot be made out; these facts, important to the individuals 
themselves, do not appear so important to others as to warrant 
a registration. The great majority of them is unknown to us; 
they ran their course like other clerks, and like them have 
lived, died, and are forgotten. But, still, from these, two must 
be excepted. 

One, whose name was Robert Barratt, of whom the following 
record does not speak very highly:— 44 1682. In this year pro¬ 
ceedings were instituted in the Consistory Court of the Bishop 
of Chester, against Robert Barratt, parish clerk of Barthomley, 
(the Rev. Zachary Cawdrey being the minister,) for the removal 
of Barratt from his office of clerk, for most disreputable con¬ 
duct on his part; and, rather than suffer the proceedings against 
him to be carried to extremes, he resigned his office.” 

And another, who, throughout this neighbourhood, yes, and 
further off, is pre-eminently known as The Clerk of Barthom¬ 
ley. An incident which befell this man has occasioned his 
wide-spread renown, and made him a household word. I pre¬ 
vailed, one day, with our old neighbour, William Bradshaw, to 

theless it may be reasonably inferred that he was the identical Robert Lunt above 
named, and if so, his age would be, at his death, 131 years. 

It is worthy of observation that he lived contemporaneously with the Leighton 
patriarch, Thomas Damme, and in the reigns of no less than six Kings and Queens, 
viz:—Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary, Elizabeth, James, and Charles the First; 
also surviving the Commonwealth, and nearly the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell. 
—The information of Mr. Jones, of Nantwich. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


105 


write it for me, and you shall have now a copy of his narrative, 
without change of words or spelling:— 

“ Thomas Smith live’d at the White Lion Inn, he was Parish Clerk & 
Schoolmaster, a very indnstrez man; when he chanc’d to get half a glass too 
much in a morning, he frequently about ten o clock trug’d up the Steps to 
the school, as soon as he Entre’d his first word was, Boys and Girls, you 
must go home and tell your Mothers Its Saint Thomas’ Day.” (A witty allu 
sion to his own name.) “It was a custom in that Country for a Publick 
Hous the gratest part of their Coals to be drawn in a Day, by neibering Far¬ 
mers, what was call’d a Coal Carrage; One Day it was agree’d to go & it was 
customary to take a small Keg of Liquer with them for the Coliers, thinking 
of having better Loading. The Host being fond of a glass, agree’d to go 
with them, when they got to the Bank they call’d the men out of the pit to 
Drink, they knew the old Chap lov’d a drop in a Morning gave him a Extre 
tip. in the mean while they was Loding, some of the men put him into a 
Corf &. took him down the pit to the face of the Coals in the dark fast asleep, 
and left him a few minuets, then 3 or 4 of them came to him naiked, as it is 
customary to work with their shirts off, they began to awake him, one says 
who are you, another goes the same, & where do you come from, a 4th and 
5 th do the same, the old Host awak’d, he was rather put in a maze, then ano¬ 
ther said, who are you; he answard, Well; when I was upon Earth I was 
Clerk of Barthomley; but now, good Master Divels, what you please: 

“ At the last he tript into the school one morning & in a few Minuets 
clap’d his head on the Desk and Expired in a few Minuets, May 16 th , 1770. 
Aged 69 years, being Parish Clerk & schoolmaster 44 years.” 

This clerk's grandson (John Smith,) has attained to the civic 
honor of being Town-Crier in the neighbouring ancient and 
loyal Borough of Newcastle. Smith’s successor, as Parish Clerk 
and Schoolmaster, was his cousin, Matthew Asbury, who died 
June 13th, 1786, aged 42 years, having held his parochial ap¬ 
pointment 16 years. 

Alas ! for parish clerks ! from generation to generation drun¬ 
kenness has been their characteristic vice. Happily, “ excep¬ 
tions form the rule,” and we have an honourable one, I think, 
in Eobert Corke, even 4 a clerk of Barthomley,’ whose gift of 
Foxe’s invaluable History to our church you will find to be 
specified on one of the tables of benefactions, which will shortly 
appear. I gladly, and somewhat eagerly, seize upon a little 
point like this in behalf of parish clerks, in order to redeem 


0 


106 


BARTHOMLEY. 


their body from the almost universal and deserved reproach of 
habitual drunkenness. We know nothing more of Clerk Corke 
than is recorded on the table, hut his gift justly seems to indi¬ 
cate deep religious feeling, and a love for the principles of 
the glorious Reformation, which exhibits itself in a right-mind¬ 
ed desire to make them more generally known to and under¬ 
stood by his fellow-parishioners. His descendants are to this 
day in the parish. 

The office of Churchwarden 1 is one of considerable import¬ 
ance in the church, and should not he passed over without a 
remark; although, with respect to the wardens of our parish, I 
have little or nothing to relate worthy of preservation; and 
perhaps the same may he said of these officials of many other 
parishes. 

A kind of wit, much in fashion in the beginning of the se¬ 
venteenth century, was that of writing Characters, and Samuel 
Butler (the author of Hudibras,) was not the least of those wri¬ 
ters who indulged in this kind of composition. I will give you 
a specimen in his portrayal of “a Churchwarden,” which, it is 
to be lamented, pretty faithfully describes a churchwarden, in 
other parishes as well as our own:— 

“ A Churchwarden is a public Officer, intrusted to rob the Church by Vir¬ 
tue of his Place, as long as he is in it. He has a very great Care to eat and 
drink well upon all public Occasions, that concern the Parish: for a good Con¬ 
science being a perpetual Feast , he believes, the better he feeds, the more Con¬ 
science he uses in the Discharge of his Trust; and as long as there is no Dry- 
money-cheat used, all others are allowed, according to the Tradition and Prac¬ 
tice of the Church in the purest Times When he lays a Tax upon the Parish 
he commonly raises it a fourth Part above the Accompt, to supply the Default 
of Houses that may be burnt, or stand empty; or Men that may break and 
run away; and if none of these happen, his Fortune is the greater, and his 
Hazard never the less; and therefore he divides the Overplus between himself 
and his Colleagues, who were engaged to pay the whole, if all the Parish had 
ran away, or hanged themselves. He over-reckons the Parish in his Ac- 
compts, as the Taverns do him, and keeps the odd Money himself, instead of 

1 The Churchwardens are appointed annually, formerly on Monday, but now on 
Friday, in Easter -week, one by the Rector, and the other by the parishioners in 
vestry assembled. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


107 


giving it to the Drawers. He eats up the Bell-Ropes like the Ass in the Em¬ 
blem, and converts the broken Glass-Windows into whole Beer-Glasses of 
Sack; and before his Year is out, if he be hut as good a Fellow as the drink¬ 
ing Bishop was, pledges a whole Pulpit full. If the Church happen to fall to 
decay in his Time, it proves a Deodand to him; for he is Lord of the Manor, 
and does not only make what he pleases of it, hut has his Name recorded on 
the Walls among Texts of Scripture and leathern Buckets, with the Year of 
his Office, that the Memory of the Unjust, as well as the Just, may last as 
long as so transitory a Thing may. He interprets his Oath, as Catholics do 
the Scripture, not according to the Sense and Meaning of the Words, hut 
the Tradition and Practice of his Predecessors; who have always been ob¬ 
served to swear what others please, and to do what they please themselves.” 

The records of our ‘parish hook,’ certainly do not shew that 
either wisdom or economy once marked the management of 
church affairs. A reform, however, has rectified many of these 
abuses; and future pages of the hook will, I foretell, exhibit 
more prudence and useful expenditure of parish funds. 

Two names, however, claim a passing notice; they are em¬ 
broidered in gold on the pulpit-cloth, as under— 

R. Latham, 

T. Broome, 

C. W. 

1753. 

The first was an ancestor of one to whom I shall shortly 
have the pleasure of alluding; whose graphic pen entitles him 
to be singled out as our village historian. The other was, most 
probably, a near relative of the divine and poet, Di. William 
Broome, a native of Haslington, in this parish; but whose 
place of birth was unknown until recently found out by Mr. 
T. W. Barlow, and Mr. Jones. 1 

! Having thus, incidentally, brought Haslington under notice, I have much 
pleasure in inserting a further note I have been favoured with from Mr. Jones:— 

“The Hall of Oakhanger, in Haslington, was long the residence of a highly re¬ 
spectable family named Acton; its last possessor of that name being John Acton, 
gentleman, who, for nearly fifty years, was the receiver for the Crewe Family, of 
their extensive Cheshire estates, and who died in 1702 ; upon whose demise Oak- 
hanger, through a female heiress, descended to a gentleman named Ready, who re¬ 
sided at the Hall for some years, where he several times entertained Thomas Moore, 
the celebrated Irish Bard, as his visitor, who there composed his beautiful little 
poem, ‘The Tear;’ a copy of which, written by himself, he presented to a married 


108 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Although the township of Haslington does not come within 
the scope of my letters, yet, since the fact of Dr. Broome’s 
birth-place being in the parish of Barthomley 1 is now establish¬ 
ed, I cannot omit a brief notice of that good man, who, in the 
opinion of Dr. Johnson, was an excellent versifier, if not a great 
poet: “his lines are smooth and sonorous, and his diction is 
select and elegant.” 

To Mr. T. W. Barlow is due the credit of having discovered 
the place of Dr. Broome’s nativity; and to Mr. Jones, (of Nant- 
wich,) that of having searched out the baptismal entry in Has¬ 
lington register, which, he has obligingly informed me, is there 
recorded as the 3rd May, 1689, “William, son of Handle 
Broome.” 

Dr. Broome was educated at Eton, and afterwards graduated 
at St. John’s college, in Oxford. Conjointly with Ozell and 
Oldisworth he produced a prose translation of Homer’s Iliad, 
considered superior to that of Pope. Subsequently, with Elijah 
Fenton, he contributed largely to the translation of the Odys- 

gentleman named Platt, also a visitor at Mr. Ready’s, by whom, many years ago, 
such copy was given to the contributor of this note .”—Communicated by Mr. Thomas 
Tumor, Solicitor, formerly of Sliavington Hall. 

It is stated by Ormerod that “ Oakhanger Hall, successively the property of the 
Actons, and a branch of the Manleys, passed with the heiress of the latter family 
to the late John Ready, Esq.” John Manley, Esq., married Mary, the younger 
daughter of John Ofiley (who assumed the name of Crewe,) Esq., grandfather of 
the first Baron Crewe, who had issue a daughter married to John Ready, Esq., 
whose sole child and heiress married Dr. Landon, the uncle of the gifted poetess 
L. E. L. Dr. Landon was Dean of Exeter and Provost of Worcester College, 
Oxford, and by his eldest son, the Rev. John Whittington Ready Landon, Oak- 
hanger Hall estate was sold in Sept., 1853, to John Hill, Esq., of the Manor House, 
Wistaston, the successful Railway Contractor. 

1 The name of Broome, of Haslington, will be frequently found in the vestry 
proceedings of Barthomley during the 17th and 18th centuries. The earliest date 
preserved in the vestry-clerk’s book is 1663, and in 1664 the names of Thomas 
Turner, of Barthomley, and William Broome, of Haslington, appear as Church¬ 
wardens. In 1714 Thomas Broome records his name ; in 1720 Ran. Broome, like¬ 
wise. In the register of burials Dec. 27th, 1756, will be found Thomas Broome, of 
Clayhonger, (in Haslington,) probably the Churchwarden, whose initials appear on 
the pulpit cloth. 

I will here mention that the earliest date of the Parish Registers is 1562. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


109 


sey, for Pope; and, it is stated, furnished all the notes to that 
work. The history of the notes to Pope’s Iliad is somewhat 
curious. 1 Broome was first engaged in consulting Eustathius, 
and translating that Commentator’s Notes on Homer for Pope; 
and, in his preface to his poems, declares himself the com¬ 
mentator in part upon the Iliad. In addition to a volume of 
Miscellaneous Poems, published in 1727, when he was Rector 
of Thurston, in Suffolk, and the works above-mentioned, he 
published, in 1737, a Coronation Sermon, and an Assize Ser¬ 
mon, on Ps. cxxii. 6. Towards the end of his life, he amused 
himself with translating Odes of Anacreon, which he contri¬ 
buted to the Gentleman’s Magazine, under the name of Chester. 
About the year 1727 the degree of Doctor of Laws was con¬ 
ferred on him by the University of Cambridge, on the occasion 
of a royal visit. He subsequently became Rector of Pelham, 
in Norfolk, with Oakley Magna, in Suffolk. At a later period 
he held the latter in conjunction with the vicarage of Eye, in 
the same county. He died at Bath, in the year 1745, and his 
remains were deposited in the Abbey Church there. 

Pope, in writing to Broome (August 29, 1740,) and giving 
him an account of Elijah Fenton’s death, says:— 

“ I condolo with you from my heart, at the loss of so worthy a man, and 
a friend to us both. Now he is gone, I must tell you, he has done you many 
a good office, and set your character in the fairest light to some, who either 
mistook you, or knew you not. I doubt not he has done the same for me. 
Adieu! Let us love his memory, and profit by his example!” 

In illustration of Dr. Broome’s merits as a poet, I give you 
the following 2 — 

“THE ROSEBUD. 

“To the Right Hon. Lady Jane Whakton. 

“ Queen of Fragrance, lovely Rose! 

The beauties of thy leaves disclose. 

The winter’s past, the tempests fly, 

Soft gales breathe gently thro’ the sky; 

1 Nichols’s Literary Anecdotes, vol. 2, pages 556 - 7. 

2 Mr. T. W. Barlow has published a most interesting Memoir of Broome, with 
Selections from his Works; to that volume I am indebted for these extracts. 


110 


BARTHOMLEY. 


The lark, sweet warbling on the wing, 

Salutes the gay return of spring; 

The silver dews, the vernal show’rs, 

Call forth a bloomy waste of flow’rs; 

The joyous fields, the shady woods, 

Are clothed with green, or swell with buds: 

Then haste, thy beauties to disclose, 

Queen of Fragrance, lovely Eose! 

“ Thou, beauteous flow’r! a welcome guest, 

Shalt flourish in the fair one’s breast; 

Shalt grace her hand, or deck her hair, 

The flow’r most sweet! the nymph most fair! 

Breathe soft, ye winds! be calm, ye skies! 

Arise, ye flowery race, arise! 

And haste thy beauties to disclose, 

Queen of Fragrance, lovely Eose! 

“ And thou, fair nymph! thyself survey, 

In this sweet offspring of a day: 

That miracle of face must fail; 

Thy charms are sweet, but charms are frail: 

Swift as the short-liv’d flow’r they fly; 

At noon they bloom, at ev’ning die. 

Tho’ sickness yet a while forbears, 

Yet time destroys what sickness spares. 

Now Helen lives alone in fame, 

And Cleopatra’s but a name, 

Time must indent that heav’nly brow, 

And thou must be what they are now. 

This moral to the fair disclose, 

Queen of Fragrance, lovely Eose!” 

And the concluding lines of his Paraphrase of the 43rd chap¬ 
ter of Ecclesiasticus:— 

“ Thus, Lord, the wonders of earth, sea, and air, 

Thy boundless wisdom and Thy power declare: 

Thou, high in glory, and in might serene, 

Seest and mo vest all, Thyself unmov’d, unseen. 

Should men and angels join in songs to raise 
A grateful tribute equal to Thy praise, 

Yet far Thy glory would their praise outshine, 

Though men and angels in the song should join: 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Ill 


For though this earth with skill divine is wrought 
Above the guess of man, or angel’s thought, 

Yet in the spacious regions of the skies, 

New scenes unfold, and worlds on worlds arise: 
There other orbs round other suns advance, 

Float on the air, and run their mystic dance ; 

And yet the pow’r of Thy almighty hand 
Can build another world from every sand; 

And though vain man arraign Thy high decree, 
Still this is just! what is,—what ought to be!’’ 


The “ goods” of the church being legally in the custody of 
the Churchwardens, I must not neglect to mention here the 
properties, and charitable gifts, recorded on several boards 
affixed to the walls within the church : 


A Catalogue 


Of the Benefactions of this Parish of Barthomley, begun in the year of 
our Lord 1672. 


George Steele and Bichard Hollins, Ch: Wardens. 


The right Honourable Sr. Bandulph Crew, Lord Chief Justice of Eng¬ 
land, gave to this Parish a fair Cup of Silver lost in the late time of trouble. 
The right Honourable the Lady Elianor Bow, of Woodford, in the county of 
Essex, gave unto Zachary Cawdrey, Bector of this Parish, a fair Carpet of 
Scarlet Cloth, edged with a wrought border and a fringe of silk, for the Com¬ 
munion table, together with a Pulpit Cloth and Cushion of the same, border¬ 
ed and fringed in like manner, to he bestowed on the Parish at his return 
hither. Mr. George Alsager, of Alsager, gave twelve pounds to he put out 
hy the Church Wardens, for the benefit of the poor of this Parish. Matthew 
Meakin, of Crew, gave twenty shillings to he put out likewise for the benefit 
of the poor of this Parish. 

Other charitable Inhabitants of this Parish, whose names are not brought 
down to the knowledge of this present generation, but are, we hope, written 
in the Book of Life, gave twenty eight pounds sixteen shillings and eight 
pence to be put out for the benefit of the poor of this Parish. 

Mr. Bobert Corke, once Clerk of this Parish, gave Mr. Fox his Acts and 
Monuments of the Church, in three volumes, to be kept in the Church for 
the use of the Parishioners. Mr. Bichard Steele, Mr. of Arts, born in Bar¬ 
thomley, gave a Commentary upon the Holy Bible, in two volumes, called 
the Assemblyes Notes, to be kept in the Church for the use of the Parishion¬ 
ers. Also was at the cost of Building the School House. 


Isaac Lea 



Wardens 1752. 


Benew’d by 


Balph Hilditch 




112 


BARTHOMLEY. 


1698. 


The Righteous shall he had in everlasting remembrance .—Psalm the 
112 tk, ver. the 6th. 

The Right Worshipfull Iohn Crew of Crew Esq. Sole Patron of y 3 
Church, gave by his last will and testam* 3001b. to be put forth by the 
Churchwardens, y e Interest thereof to be imployed for y e use of y e poor of y s 
Parish. The said Iohn Crew gave also in his lifetime y e sum of 12lb. to y s 
School, y e Interest thereof yearly to be imployed for y e teaching of two poor 
children of y e Township of Crew, at y e appointment of his Heirs and Suc¬ 
cessors. 

Given by Mrs. Elizabeth Gorge, daughter of Sir Arthur Gorge, 101b. to 
be put forth likewise by y e Churchwardens for y e benefit of y e poor of y s 
Parish. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Turner, y e younger daughter of y® above named Iohn 
Crew, gave by her last will and testamt- 801b. y e yearly Interest thereof to be 
imployed for y® use of y® poor of y e Townships of Crew and Barthomley. 


Mr. Thomas Turner, John Wilkinson, Churchwardens 
George Allsager, 

Richard Colley, 


Renewed 1728, 


Ch: wardens- 


Catalogue 

Of Charitable Gifts given to the Poor of this Parish. 

Sir John Crewe, Knt., of Utkinton, left by his last Will and Testament the 
sum of £13 to be put forth by the Churchwardens the Yearly Interest 
thereof to be employ’d for the use of the Poor of this Parish for ever. 


Anthony Ward, left by his last Will and Testament the sum of £50, the In 
terest thereof to be laid out in Bread for the Poor of this Township. 


Joseph Lea, Thos. Whitehall, Ch: Wardens, 1719. 

( J. Cliffe 7 

Renewed by | q Bennion S Wardens 1833. 


An Account 

Of the money laid out in the Purchase of Ravens Lane Estate, in the parish 
of Audley in the county of Stafford, for the Benefit of the School and poor of 
the Parish of Barthomley. In the year of our Lord 1722. 

Given by I. Crewe, Esq re for Charitable Uses ... ... ,£300 

Given by persons unknown, for the use of the Poor ... ... 17 

Part of Mr. Steele’s bequest to the School of Barthomley ... 42 
Belonging to the Poor and Interest due at the time of purchase 84 




BARTHOMLEY. 


113 


Belonging to the Poor... 

Do ... ... ... .. 

Given by John Crewe Esq™ to the School 
Given by Mr. Ralph Alsager to the School 
Given by Mr. Darwell to the School 


£37 

5 

100 

20 

5 

£610 


Thos. Martin, q 
Rob. Ryder } 


Churchwardens 1808. 


l 


A Catalogne 

Of Charitable Contributions given to the School of Barthomley, Founded 
and erected by Mr. Richard Steele, Master of Arts, endowed and continued 
by the Persons whose Names are under written, y e Yearly Interest of which 
is to he applied for the use of the Said School. 


John Crew, of Crew, Esquire, Patron of this Church, gave... ... £300 

Ralph Alsager, of Alsager, Gent., gave Twenty Pounds, ... ... 20 

Thomas Hassall, of London, Born in this Town, gave Twenty Pounds 20 
William Darwall, of Alsager, Gent, gave Five Pounds ... ... 5 

George Alsager, of this Town, gave Five Pounds ... ... 5 

The Reverend Mr. Bayley gave in Part and procur’d the Sum of 

Fourteen Pounds for the Use of the School ... ... 14 

Thomas Corns 
John Somerfield 


Ch: Wardens 1733. 


A Catalogue 

Of Charitable Legacies given to this Parish. 


Mr. Richard Steele, who erected the School at his own Charge, by his Will 
gave the Sum of £50, the Yearly Interest to be paid to the Schoolmaster, 
and the Steele’s Family, of Claycroft, to be free to the same. 


John Lawton, of Balterley, gave... 

... ... ... £10 

Mary Leversage, of Oakhonger, widow, gave 

.£5 

Abraham Lea, of Crewe, gave ... 

.£4 

the yearly Interest to be applied for the use of the Poor. 

George Mai bon ■) 
Richard Oulton ) 

Churchwardens 1707. 

Renewed by 


Samuel Whitakers \ 
John Sims ) 

Churchwardens, 1772. 


- 


P 









114 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Joseph Bleamire 

Coachman, to John Crewe, Esq re left by his last Will and Testament the 
Sum of Sixty Pounds, the Interest of which to be laid out weekly in brown 
Bread of the value of two Pence per Loaf and to be distributed in the Parish 
Church of Barthomley, 


every 

Sunday, immediately after morning Service, to the Poor of the Township 
Crewe. 


William Wilson ) 
Samuel Shaw, j 
Renewed by 
James Martin *) 
James Barker J 


Ch: Wardens 1760. 


Ch: wardens 1831. 


of 


The Books above-mentioned, in order to their security, were 
chained to a long desk in the large pew assigned to the use of 
the servants of Crewe Hall, they continued to be so until recent 
alterations in the church. The custom of chaining books in¬ 
tended for the use of the reading public, was common in olden 
times, when books were too valuable to be possessed by any 
but the wealthy. Ours are now in a sadly injured condition, 
and some leaves destroyed, but the broken chains are still 
attached to them. The edition of “Foxe’s Acts and Monu¬ 
ments,” (commonly called the Book of Martyrs,) appears to 
be that of 1632; on the last leaf is written, very neatly, pro¬ 
bably at the date thereof, “ This booke belongeth to the Church 
of Bartomley, 1633.” 

There are several articles of Plate, described in the parish 
records as follows: 

Two Silver Flaggons, with the Crewe Arms elegantly en¬ 
graved on the sides, and inscriptions on the bottom: on the 
one “The Gift of Mrs. Crewe,” and the figures “ 62, 12”; and 
on the other “The Gift of Mrs. Crewe,” and the figures “ 63, 4.” 

Two Silver Cups, the larger with the inscription, “ The 
Parish of Barthomley,” the other with the inscription, “ The 
Gift of Zachary Cawdrey, Bector.” 

Two Silver Salvers, the larger having the Monogram of our 



BARTHOMLEY. 


115 


Saviour on the Cross, and the other inscribed “ The Parish of 
Barthomley.” 

By the liberality of the present Baron, Hungerford Crewe, 
the Church has been furnished with a sweetly toned Organ, in 
the place of one formerly presented by Frances Ann Lady Crewe. 

The Bavens Lane Estate, mentioned as having been pur¬ 
chased with funds bequeathed to this Parish, was subsequently 
sold to Sir Thomas F. F. Boughey, Bart., subject to an annual 
pajunent. 

From Churchwardens we will go to blacksmiths: ‘the Gib¬ 
sons.’ They seem to have been wags in their way; judging from 
their Christian names. As fire was the element of their trade, 
so they were denominated, from father to sons—Shadrach, Me- 
shach, and Abednego. Unluckily, the patriarch Abednego, of 
my early days, was blessed with a fourth son, and was puzzled 
what to call him; the burning fiery furnace held only three 
youths, and, consequently, a fourth name was not forthcoming 
from that quarter; and so looking at the top of his bible, he saw 
the name of the Prophet who records the danger and deliverance 
of these Hebrews, and forthwith he called his last-born son 
Daniel; for if he was not in the fire , he wrote about it. One 
Shadrach, of the elder race, disdained his family calling, and 
followed one of a less reputable kind. He was of that class 
which people call half-witted—often more knaves than fools—a 
sort of Franciscan friar; a walleteer, or budget-bearer; and 
lived in idleness by begging. His name was shortened to 
Shig —‘Shig Gibson; and mothers used it as a bug-bear to 
naughty children: ‘ if you won’t be good, old Shig shall take 
you’! This man had his regular rounds; and on a particular 
day, and at a particular hour, would visit each house in rota¬ 
tion. With unwashed face and hands, with tattered clothes, 
and a dirty bag under his arm, he paid a periodical visit to the 
Rectory, and, under a large pear-tree in the back-yard, opposite 
the kitchen window, stationed himself, and stood for hours in 
silent expectation, (for he never asked for any thing, and would 


116 


BARTHOMLEY. 


not receive money,) until some broken victuals were brought 
him, which, without a word, he crammed into his wallet, and 
departed. My father frequently warned him off the premises, 
and seeing him there one morning in spite of this, threatened 
to send a man with a horse-whip to flog him away. The threat 
had a magic charm: the mendicant’s tongue was loosened, and 
drawing himself up with uncommon dignity, he said, “I 
thought you were a Justice of * the peace,’ but I see you are all 
for £ war ’ /” 

Daniel Stringer -was another worthy of this township. In 
a former letter, I adduced his evidence to prove, what I believe 
to be, an historical fact before unknown. He attained the 
great age of 99 years; all his faculties being sound to the very 
last. He was a man, both in talent and information, far in ad¬ 
vance of his own class, and only wanted education and oppor¬ 
tunity to become a distinguished character. He was a tall, 
fine-built fellow, and, in youth, must have been extremely good- 
looking. He was a miller and small farmer; and, sometimes, 
stole a few sly hours from his business, to perpetrate a little 
poaching. One of his hands bore a fearful mark of his pro¬ 
pensity. A long time ago, the land about Manneley Mere, for 
many acres, was covered with rushes and high sedges, and was, 
of course, a favourite resort of wild-fowl. Here Daniel used to 
have a little clandestine sport; and once, when there in search 
of it, a flock of wild-geese rose with loud screams before him; 
he fired, the gun burst in his hand, and shattered several of 
his fingers. His observation of passing events and social pro¬ 
gress was uncommonly acute: nothing seemed to have escaped 
him, and this made his conversation both interesting and in¬ 
structive. “I went,” said he to me, “with many others to stare 
and wonder at the making of the new-cut (the canal), and what 
a great and useful undertaking we thought it, never to be 
beaten by any other; but I have lived to see the making and 
opening of a railway, 1 which beats all that has ever been done 

1 The Grand-Junction, from Liverpool to Birmingham; now merged in The 
London and North Western. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


117 


yet. I expect it will make a great change wherever it goes.’ 
His mind penetrated beyond the mere surface of the work, and 
already foresaw, what people in his class would little think of, 
the gigantic strides which civilization would take by its help, 
even in the most retired and backward spots of England. He 
lived to see but a little of what it has so rapidly accomplished. 
He was digging, when a young man, in one of the Oakhanger 
mosses, and, at a great depth, hit upon a wooden figure, rude 
and grotesque, but complete with eyes, nose, and mouth. He 
concluded it to be an idol , and sent it to the British Museum, 
with an account of its discovery, but never learnt whether it 
arrived safe there. I was sincerely sorry when the old man 
died; he was the last connecting link, in my parish, between 
my own and two preceding generations. 

Joseph and Matty Smith were also two singular characters. 
They lived in an old Elizabethan house, black and white, 
against whose walls roses, jessamine, and honeysuckle creeped 
in rivalry. The place is known to you as “ Smith’s farm. 
Joseph was by trade a butcher, but, after his marriage, followed 
it to a limited extent. He was a rough, homespun, and good- 
natured fellow; and clung, in his dress, to the costume of his 
youth : a low crowned, broad-brimmed hat, a broad tailed coat, 
leathern breeches, spotted grey stockings, and shoes with buc¬ 
kles. But his wife, Matty, was the chief curiosity. She was 
born in that old house, where her ancestors had lived for cen¬ 
turies. From affection and style she was a component part of 
it. Never, in her whole life, did she travel further from it than 
the nearest market town, Newcastle: this was her metropolis, 
whose wonders could not be surpassed. A plain white frilled 
cap covered her head, the lappets of which were closely tied be¬ 
neath her chin; on the top of this, throughout the day, in the 
house and out of it, she placed a black silk shallow hat, some¬ 
what in the form of a soup-plate, only with a wider brim. Her 
neck and bosom were enveloped in a neckerchief; her gown 
was low in front, and reached only to the waist; it hung be- 


118 


BAETHOMLEY. 


hind, like the festoon of a curtain, to a little below the knees; 
its sleeves fitted tight to the arms, and terminated in a frill at 
the elbow. A white apron continued her front costume; un¬ 
derneath which was a diamond quilted petticoat, not quite 
touching the ankles, which were encased in blueish coloured 
worsted stockings; her shoes were high in the instep and heel, 
and buckled. For one who had seen so little of the world, her 
manners were more than ordinarily refined. There was a rea¬ 
son for this. 

The French revolution, you know, drove many of France’s 
sons to England; and some of these sought there the most 
secluded spots, with vain attempt to soothe their sorrows, too 
delicate to hear the remarks of strangers; or to hide them¬ 
selves, as it were, from themselves; for the privations of pover¬ 
ty—not theirs by birth and rank, hut the result of cruel acci¬ 
dent—their pride could hear, alone, hut not in company: words 
of pity from the many, were to them words which recalled mor¬ 
tifying and humbling miseries: they shrank, too sensitively, 
from proffered sympathy, and shut themselves out of the world. 
One of these emigrants arrived at Barthomley, and took up his 
abode in the house of Matty Smith, who was then in the zenith 
of her youth. A small parlour was devoted to his use, in 
which was his bed. This room, which I, when a boy, used to 
examine with a breathless and respectful curiosity, bore evident 
marks of a highly cultivated taste. The emigrant’s means were 
small, but not his ingenuity, this was used in turning many a 
little thing to account, forming them into pretty ornaments, at 
once relieving him from ennui, and decorating his apartment. 
In course of time, he became more familiar with our language, 
and with those with whom he lived, and then he began to in¬ 
struct in better manners the young maiden of the house. She 
was taught by him to dance, and could, with a majestic air, 
glide and curtsy through a minuet de la cour. He tried to 
teach her French; but one morning a letter came; it was read 
with emotions he could not repress, and, in a day or two after, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


119 


the amiable, proud Frenchman hade farewell for ever to his 
truly sorrowing host and hostess, and pupil, and disappeared. 
Matty’s proficiency in French was not, therefore, great; a few 
ill-pronounced words were its only evidence. 

Frequently have we—our whole family—father, mother, and 
children, in summer time, taken with us tea and its accompani¬ 
ments, to spend the evening with Old Matty. Her preparations 
for the visit were only equalled by our anxieties for it. The 
large parlour, upon a wall of which hung the notable picture of 
Death and the Lady, was well cleaned for the occasion, and 
Matty herself appeared in the best habiliments of her anti¬ 
quated wardrobe. 0 what fun after tea! scrambling into hay 
lofts, hiding in the buildings, looking at cows, and sheep, and 
horses, and ferrets, and running about the fields! and, then, 
with flushed and merry faces, returning to the house to drink 
whey, and witness Old Matty figuring in her dance. When you 
get to my age, the reminiscences of your boyhood will be 
amongst your brightest: do not despise the utterance of mine. 

“ Pictured in memory’s mellowing glass, bow sweet 
Our infant days, our infant joys, to greet; 

To roam in fancy in each cherish’d scene, 

The village churchyard, and the village green, 

The woodland walk remote, the greenwood glade, 

The mossy seat beneath the hawthorn shade, 

The whitewash’d cottage, where the woodbine grew, 

And all the favourite haunts our childhood knew!” 

In an orchard, at the back of the house, was a large pear-tree, 
having in its trunk, about three feet from the ground, a hole, in 
which was placed a stone, leaving a small aperture for the use 
of a tom-tit, which built its nest at the bottom of the hole. 
This bird, and its ancestors, had occupied the little snuggery, 
at the proper season, for more than fifty years; the same stone 
having been, during that time, a safeguard to the nursery and 
its contents. In this orchard my sisters made some little gar¬ 
dens, and filled them with flowers. After a sixteen years ab¬ 
sence from Barthomley, when I returned to it, as its Hector, I 


120 


BARTHOMLEY. 


hastened down to these haunts of my youth, and to the orchard, 
changed in nothing hut in age and neatness. There, in one 
corner of it, “ still many a garden-flower grew wild.” “ Miss 
Emma planted them,” said Old Polly, (the daughter of Old 
Matty,) and turned away her face in tears. The old house was 
pulled down some time ago, and a new one built on another 
site before its demolition: it was a matter of necessity. The 
day came in which the family was to flit. During the building 
of the new house, Old Matty had doggedly declared she would 
never enter it, hut by force, and that the workmen might pull 
down her birth-place, hut amidst its ruins she would die; for, 
though more than 86 years of age, she had never slept hut one 
night from beneath its roof. One piece of furniture after ano¬ 
ther was taken away, not a chair or bed was left, only the aged 
woman; they took her by the arms, and, with gentle violence, 
led her to the door; she clung to its posts, hut in vain; she was 
forcibly brought to her new home, hut never looked up after, 
and in a few more months was carried to her grave. 

William Bradshaw, publican, shopkeeper, ringer, choir leader, 
deserves a notice. In every parish, perhaps, it will be found 
that musical talent is peculiar to some one or two of its fami¬ 
lies. Bradshaw’s family was an instance of this. He himself 
was well acquainted with what he called—in remarkably deep 
and gruff tones, roughened by a coarse Cheshire dialect—“ good 
sound stuff: Handel’s, Haydn’s, Mozart’s; not those light and 
flimsy things Methodies use, not worth the hearing.” Not 
only could he play on divers instruments, but he could make 
them, too; I have seen a fiddle, a violoncello, and a large part 
of an organ of his handiwork; and proud was he of his work 
and his performances. His head and face were formed much 
like his own big-fiddle—as his violoncello was vulgarly called; 
narrow at the top, wide at the bottom; and when he placed the 
instrument between his legs, and, with well-turned wrist and 
elbow, drew the bow solemnly and slowly over its strings, the 
quick and various contortions of the impending face sympa- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


121 


thized with their tones in the most ludicrous manner. Fond 
of news, he was a parish gazette; and, a stickler to old customs 
and old scenes, he saw, with jealousy and anger, “ any of those 
new-fangled alterationsimprovements , he would not allow 
them to he. He lived to a good old age; more generally known, 
perhaps, throughout the parish, than any other of his own rank. 

AVe have our poets and our historians, too. John Darling¬ 
ton, brickmaker and mole-catcher, is our poet. A specimen 
of his vein I did intend to copy for you. It paints the disaster 
of a clerk of Alsager, now the clerk of Barthomley, and I hope 
a better man than he was ; and, therefore, I withhold it. 

Our historian is Richard Latham, a rich retired farmer. 
When all England was overflowing with rejoicings, on account 
of the coronation of our best Queen, Victoria, Barthomley had 
its rejoicings also, and these were accounted worthy of his pen. 
And there is something so much above all criticism, so lively, 
stirring, in the chronicle of Mr. Latham, as to give it a marked 
character, exclusively its own; none but itself can be its pa¬ 
rallel :— 

“ 1838, June 28. Curronation of Queen Victoria. Held at Barthomley, 
morning, 6 o’clock bels began to Bing, flags on the steeple and diffarent 
places, band Began to play; soon after, the people begun to assemble. The 
new scool was beutified in the most pleasing manner Whith shrubs and 
flowers, at the bed end God save the Queen In Gold letters, the Crown 
above; at the loer end V. B. Crown imperial above, band playing, bells 
ringing, flags fluttreing in the air. at 2 o’clock 51 Gentlemen and Far¬ 
mers sat down to a Sumtuous dinner at the White Lion Inn. at 3 o’clock 
120 Sunday scollars assembled in frant of the Hall a short tim, wen they 
walked atended by three flags and hand of music hack to the lawn of the 
Bev a E. Hinchliffe ware thay pertook buns and Wine, then the Hymn 
God save the Queen was sung By 10 girls of the Sunday scool in grand stile, 
then 120 poor W T omen sat down to tay in the new Scool Build by the Whor- 
they Bector, bells still ringing, band playing; then the Women and children 
walked 2 abreet through the village And round the Hall to the scool whear 
they drank the Queen’s Health with great Aplause, then about 100 poor men 
ware Begaled with ale with loud huraye, bells ringing, band Playing, then 
the Merrey Dance begun by about 20 Cupple on the lawn of our Worthey 
Bector until nearly Dusk, wen the fier works began, wich ended the pleasint- 
est day I ever experienced on such an occasion.’ 

Q 


122 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Our author carries us on with so much rapidity, from scene 
to scene, as to make us gasp for breath. I never before met 
with a style of writing so expressive of movement, and of the 
joyous sounds and sights of a festival, as his; an excellency 
which many a better speller than he will covet. 

I ought not, now that I am telling of the festivities held at 
Barthomley, omit to mention, to its honor, that the marriage of 
our Queen was also, celebrated there with the greatest enthusiasm. 
The Staffordshire Advertiser gives a very correct account of our 
doings on that occasion:— 

« Barthomley , Cheshire .—On Monday last, the inhabitants of the village 
of Barthomley, in the county of Chester, determined not to be behind their 
neighbours in showing their loyalty on the above occasion, and at an early 
hour a handsome flag was placed above the tower of the parish church, from 
which, during the afternoon, the bells continued to pour forth many peals. 
About one o’clock the children belonging to the Sunday school were brought 
in front of the hall, the residence of the Rector, the Rev. Edward Hinchliffe, 
when they were first presented with buns, and afterwards with wine, in 
which they drank, ‘The Queen and Prince Albert, long life and happiness 
to them.’ A procession was then formed, consisting of about sixty respecta¬ 
ble persons, resident in the parish and neighbourhood, headed by banners, 
and a band of music, and followed by the children of the Sunday school. 
After parading through the village and round the hall to the school, the chil¬ 
dren were dismissed, and the gentlemen entered the school-room, where they 
sat down to an excellent dinner, at which Mr. Hinchliffe presided; Messrs. 
Williams, Twemlow, George Garratt, and John Timmis officiating as vice- 
presidents. The room was most tastefully fitted up and decorated for the 
occasion; a handsome print of the Queen being placed opposite the seat oc¬ 
cupied by the chairman. After ample justice had been done to the viands, 
and grace said, the Rev. chairman, in a truly loyal and eloquent speech, pro¬ 
posed the Queen and Prince Albert, which was received with due honors, 
and God save the Queen was then sung, the whole company enthusiastically 
joining in the chorus. ‘ The Queen Dowager’ was then given, and most en¬ 
thusiastically received, after which the other members of the Royal Family 
were given. Mr. Williams, one of the vice-presidents, then gave the Rev. 
chairman, which was received with most rapturous applause, and nine times 
nine hearty cheers, for which he duly returned thanks. A collection was 
made, with which one hundred poor women were treated with tea, &c., at the 
two public-houses, being attended and waited upon by the wives and daugh¬ 
ters of the respectable inhabitants; after which another procession was 
formed, and paraded through the village. At the conclusion God save the 


BARTHOMLEY. 


123 


Queen was again sung. The gentlemen then returned to the school, when 
Mrs. Hinchliffe and her infant son, were given with three times three, for 
which the Rev. chairman, in an appropriate speech, returned thanks. Many 
other toasts were given, and several excellent songs and glees sung, the 
greatest harmony and conviviality prevailing throughout the evening. About 
seven o’clock, the gentlemen quitted the school, and the tables, &c., having 
been removed, they returned, bringing with them the ladies, when dancing 
commenced, and was kept up in a spirited manner. At a late hour the com¬ 
pany separated, highly pleased with the kindness and attention they had re¬ 
ceived from the worthy Rector, whose chief aim seemed to be to render those 
around him happy on this joyous occasion; and the greatest praise is due 
both to him and the committee, for the manner in which their arrangements 
were made and carried into effect.” 

I have now done with the worthies connected with the town¬ 
ship of Barthomley; beginning with William the Conqueror 
who tossed it, a small and insignificant part of his profuseness, 
into the lap of his kinsman, Hugh Lupus—and ending with 
Richard Latham, a small contributor to its annals: hoping the 
account I have given of them will serve to please you, 

I am, 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XII. 


MY DEAR BOY, 


^HE scenery of our township has nothing of the 
bold and striking; hut there are many little hits, 
IH8 as artists call them, which, when put together, 
_ _ or single, produce very pleasing effects. Three 
pass through it, and ripple onwards over a 
gravelly bottom, to swell the river Weaver, and mingle their 
humble waters with those of the majestic Mersey, and the 
Atlantic sea. One of these is dignified with the name of 






124 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Wulvam; and, when a boy, I have loved to linger on its banks, 

“ And listen to the stream that murmurs by;" 

And, in meditative mood, I have leaned over the battlement of 
our garden-bridge, and throwing a piece of wood into the brook, 

I have watched it, caught, for an instant, by an impending 
bough, then liberated by the flow of water, carried down 
miniature cascades, and eddying round the projection of a 
bank, where it vanished altogether from my sight; and I have 
speculated on the possibility of its voyaging even to America. 

On each side of these brooks are shelving banks, varying in 
height, so that the surface ground is not of that monotonous 
flat which disfigures so large a part of Cheshire. The hedge¬ 
row timber, containing many fine oaks, adds richness to the 
scene; and little roughs, and coppies, (as they are called, for 
breaks and coppices,) help, here and there, to form, in the val¬ 
leys, through which the rivulets run, some lovely little dells. 

One spring, in the merry month of May, with my dear friend 
and curate, the Rev. Arthur Browne, I gathered seventy-three 
different wild-flowers growing in Barthomley rough. 

And let me here advise you early to cultivate a fondness for 
wild-flowers, as an inexhaustable source of interest to you in 
after years ; your country-walk will then yield a delight it may 
not otherwise afford, and impart to you a pleasure nevertiring 
and ever new. I cannot resist quoting the poet Campbell’s 
charming lines in praise of them: 

“ Ye field flowers! the gardens eclipse you, ’tis true, 

Yet, wildings of Nature, I doat upon you, 

For ye waft me to summers of old, 

When the earth teemed around me with fairy delight, 

And when daises and buttercups gladdened my sight, 

Like treasures of silver and gold.” 

Altogether, I think, that the whole township may be justly 
pronounced one of those pretty rural spots which stamp a 
special character on the scenery of England. The village, how¬ 
ever, is one of its brightest features; and it presents many of 








“■ ’ - • 














































BARTHGML 



















BARTHOMLEY. 


125 


those characteristics, which would arrest the notice, and engage 
the pencil of a Gainsborough. It is situated on the hanks of 
the Wulvarn, and almost entirely composed of black and white 
houses, (the ancient half-timbered Elizabethan houses, of which 
there are a greater number in Cheshire than in any other coun¬ 
ty,) dotted about in small clusters, and backed by orchards. In 
spring, when the fruit trees are in blossom, these orchards are 
one gorgeous mass of flowers, and afford a gay and “ animated 
decoration to the spot.” And to those who will wander into 
the high-ways and by-ways in and near the village, the wild 
flowers, of lesser growth, which flourish in great abundance, on 
the hedge banks and in the fields, will be a source of much 
gratification, especially in early spring; 

“ There yet the primrose opes its earliest bloom, 

There yet the violet sheds its first perfume.” 

The village is seen to great advantage from the church-yard, 
which is above the roofs of some of the houses, and makes 
them appear as if collected in a snug little nest, sheltering them 
from storms. On approaching the village, by the field-way 
from Radway Green, its appearance (or rather, the first sign of 
it, the church-tower,) is particularly pleasing; and strangers, on 
a first visit especially, are much struck with its beauty. 

The perusal of the interesting note you will find relative to 
old Lunt reminds me, that, among other attractions of our 
village, the salubrity of its air, evidenced by the longevity of 
many of its former inhabitants, is not one of the least. In the 
churchyard are inscriptions to be found on gravestones, which 
shew that not a few of the parishioners have survived the ordi¬ 
nary lot of humanity—‘ three score years and ten.’ The in¬ 
scriptions are, generally, of the common style and tone of those 
in most country churchyards. One, however, may be excepted, 
which contains a play upon the name of the departed R. 
Bourne; not that it has any claim to originality, for when I was 
at Oxford, an unlucky wag made the same play on the name of 
one of the most eminent of its physicians—Dr. Bourne. 


126 


BARTHOMLEY. 


The epitaph at Bartliomley runs thus :— 

“Beneath 

THIS STONE ARE INTERRED THE REMAINS OE 

Richard Bourne, late of Smith’s Green, Barthomley, 

WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE AT BuTTERTON LANE, IN THIS PARISH, 

the 6 th day of April, 1853 , 

Aged 69 years. 

Reader ! whoever thou art that lookest upon this, 

REMEMBER THY MORTALITY,—THAT THOU ART HASTENING TO THAT BOURNE 
FROM WHENCE NO TRAVELLER RETURNS: THEREFORE 

Prepare to meet thy God.” 

On the highest bank of the brook, eastward of the church, and 
close to it, is the Rectory, or Hall; a large house, with no archi¬ 
tectural recommendations but those of use and comfort, having 
undergone successive alterations by succeeding rectors, accord¬ 
ing to their respective tastes and wants. It stands, however, 
very prettily 

-“imbosomed soft in trees,” 

and looks over a rich glebe to the Staffordshire hills. It is 
supposed, by the rustic neighbours, to be haunted, and the 
tradition has caused, at times, much dread to servants, and even 
kept some from applying for situations there. The restless 
ghost is said to be the spirit of 4 Randle Crewe,’ which, at the 
‘witching hour of night,’ visits the top storey of the house, and 
walks along the passage, clanking a heavy chain. What his ob¬ 
ject is, I cannot tell, unless the fears of the servants afford him 
an amusement, peculiar to ghosts; but this I know, that not 
during any night of the very many which I have passed in 
that storey, have I heard his stalk and rattlings; nor had the 
honour of meeting my mischievous predecessor. An old butler 
of my father’s (still living,) solemnly asserts, that one night he 
heard the ghostly visitant knocking about the brewing vessels 
in the brew-house, and that he went to see what was the matter, 
but found no derangement of the tubs, &c.; all was perfectly 
quiet: “silence echoed through the vast alcove.” Of course, 
the derangement was of his own brains. You may fancy what 
a wretched night of alarms and starts that was to him! 










































’ 






... 








1 









BARTHOMLEY. 


127 


In the village are two public-houses , opposite to each other, 
and both so placed as to attract the traveller coming from Bet- 
ley, Alsager, or Audley. One is designated the Punch-howl, 
—or “ the Steps,” by which name it is most known, being built 
close to the high steps, which once led from the village to the 
church. The other, the White Lion, or Crewe Arms, the sign 
of which is swung from a transverse beam, fastened at one end 
in the wall of the house, and resting at the other end on a 
strong upright post, fixed in the edge of the road, and defended, 
at the base, by a block of granite. As the sign rocked to and 
fro in the wind, it sent forth a like sound to that which lingered 
in the recollection of Henry Kirke White, when, with a poet’s 
eye of contemplation, he saw “ the peaceful hamlet” illumined 
“by the silver moon:”— 

“Now ceas’d the long, the monitory toll, 

Keturning silence stagnates in the soul; 

Save when, disturbed by dreams, with wild affright, 

The deep mouth’d mastiff bays the troubled night: 

Or where the village alehouse crowns the vale, 

The creaking sign-post whistles to the gale.” 

The White Lion is kept by Mr. and Mrs. Bebbington, two 
old and much respected servants of the first Lord Crewe; and 
if any traveller appreciates cleanliness, good plain cooking, 
and cheerful civility, in a quiet village inn, let me recommend 
him to this. Many years ago, a new sign was painted for the 
house, by two amateurs, Foster Cunliffe Offiey, and Henry 
J. Hinchliffe, Esqs.; and no two real lions ever varied more in 
face and figure than these. Both were ‘rampant;’ standing on 
one leg, with the three others raised, according to heraldic fa¬ 
shion; the tails of both curled sarcastically upwards, and a ter¬ 
rific grin from each shewed ‘ the nature of the beasts ; but, apart 
from these symbolic features, it was no easy matter to discover 
to what genus the two animals belonged. After swinging there 
for several years, sometimes disfigured with mud, or pelted 
with stones, these kings of the forest were riddled with shot, 
and removed, in a very precarious state, to make way for their 
successors. 


128 


BARTHOMLEY. 


A School-house was in tlie church-yard, built and endowed 
by Richard Steele; it has been taken down, and another erected 
on a portion of the glebe, at a little distance from the church. 

The face of the country is much changed from what it was, 
Daniel Stringer remembered the lovely green pastures, around 
the village, being so covered with high fern and gorse, that it was 
difficult to find a cow when feeding in them; one lying down 
was completely hidden. By degrees agricultural skill increased, 
and the fields were cleared, and made more like what they now 
are. The little vale, in which ‘ Barthomley mill’ stands—an 
extremely picturesque, old black and white building, the subject 
of many a sketch to the visitors at Crewe Hall—was formerly 
full of gigantic oaks; it was their fate to he cut down when 
Daniel was a youth, and to be carried to Crewe, where they 
were cloven, and form a great part of the park palings to this 
day. This caused a clearance, and a good at the same time. 
It let hi sun and air to spots hitherto screened from both, and 
opened many a pretty little view, which had been hidden by the 
dark umbrage of these trees; increasing, too, the salubrity of 
the neighbourhood. The chief fault of the scenery is yet in 
the numerous small enclosures, fenced with high cops and rag¬ 
ged hedges, and crowded with trees. Agricultural improvement 
has done somewhat to remedy this; and when farmers can be 
persuaded that it is to their own interest to throw fields toge¬ 
ther, and use the land for crops where the unseemly cops now 
are, the appearance of the neighbourhood will have some 
chance of being bettered. The Cheshire farmer is—almost by 
nature—a stationary being; he likes the agricultural system of 
his forefathers, and it takes much time to persuade him that 
this age of progress has introduced any course of farming, or 
implement of husbandry, which can tend to the benefit of his 
own condition. ‘Slow and sure’ is his motto by choice, hut 
necessity has compelled him to part with it in practice, and to 
move a little quicker, in pace with the times. 

Within my memory, there is a great and favourable change 


BARTHOMLEY. 


129 


in the products of Bartliomley; not a little indebted for this 
to Mr. E. H. Martin, of Henhull Cottage, Nantwich, the 
upright, clever, and indefatigable agent of Lord Crewe. Thirty 
six years ago, my father was the only person who grew Swede 
turnips in the parish, and although the crops were good, 
and found to be of invaluable use for winter fodder, they were 
considered a novelty, 4 would do very well for sheep, but not for 
beasts’; so the poor cows of the farmer continued to be fed on oat 
straw, or wretched hay, during the winter, and to be turned out 
in spring, perfect representatives of Pharoah’s lean kine. Old 
pastures—preserved intact from the plough by the most absurd 
covenants, full of moss, or rushes, or sour grass, or dog-daisies 
—were supposed necessary to the dairy, and quite sufficient for 
the half-starved cow. Wheat enough for the household, and a 
little to spare for market, and oats in the same proportion, were 
grown; barley never. Deep-draining—which, at first, astonish¬ 
ed the natives, and who exclaimed that “they could not see 
what good burying shells was”!—and coats of bone-dust, have 
driven away the aforementioned evils from the pastures, and 
established in their room a profuse growth of trefoil and 
white clover, insomuch that the quantity of stock on some 
farms has nearly doubled, and the cheese-vat proportionably 
increased. I have seen some splendid crops of turnips and 
mangel-worzel in Bartliomley; Mr. Whitby, of the Town- 
house, once put in his claim for the prize, offered by the 
South Cheshire Agricultural Society, for the best crop of the 
latter, but did not win it; nevertheless, the produce of his 
field was averaged by the judges at thirty-two tons to the acre. 
Belgian carrots have also been grown, by Mr. George Garratt, 
and proved extremely remunerative, having been sold, deliver¬ 
ed, at twenty-four shillings a ton. These additions to winter 
fodder have not only been advantageous to the stock, but also 
to the land; yielding a larger quantity and a better quality of 
manure, so that good crops of wheat, barley, and oats have 
been the consequence. 


R 


130 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Marl was formerly a favourite manure, and many still think 
that it is not now sufficiently appreciated and used. In hog 
and sandy soils it is invaluable; and, I believe, that on more 
fertile pastures it serves as a sweetener of the grass. Marl-pits 
are to he seen in almost every field in Barthomley, and I can 
well recollect the busy work and noise of marlers. Their pecu¬ 
liar customs are so well described by Ormerod, that I shall 
steal a page out of his book for you : x 

“ The ceremonies of the Marlers are probably peculiar to Cheshire. (Not 
so.) “ In the Western Hundreds they elect a lord of the pit, demand money 
from the neighbouring landowners whom they see passing near the pit, and 
proclaim their acquisitions daily, and at the end of the week; previous to 
which proclamation, and subsequent to it, they form a ring, joining their 
hands, and inclining their heads to the centre, shouting repeatedly, and fin¬ 
ishing with a lengthened cadence. The words vary between the shouts, hut 
are generally to this effect, ‘ Oyez, Oyez, Oyez! Mr. —, of , has been with 
us to day, and given my lord and his men part of a hundred pounds;’ but 
if the donation is more than sixpence, it is part of a thousand pounds. The 
same ceremony is repeated at the village ale-house, where they spend their 
acquisitions on Saturday, and the sound of the last prolonged shout, as it 
dies gradually away, may he heard for miles in a still summer’s evening.” 

This is true as to Barthomley, with one small exception. In 
our township the marlers demand money from all who pass by; 
unhappily, it is spent, on Saturday night, at the ale-house, and 
noisy, drunken orgies ensue, which trench upon the Sabbath, 
and lead to its profanement. It is a custom more honoured in 
the breach than in the observance, and is now almost extinct. 

Roads, too, are much improved: formerly they were of deep, 
heavy sand, or of stone dragged at a great expense from Mow 
Cop. Daniel Stringer remembered the family coach, from Crewe 
Hall, being driven along the gravelly bottom of the brook, on 
its way to church on Sundays, for want of a better road; the 
four strong horses, which drew it, splashing about the water as 
they trotted along. MacAdam’s genius, however, has reached 
us, and farmers find the benefit of his system of road-making, 
not only in greater facility of travelling, but in a diminished 

1 History of Cheshire, vol. 1, General Introduction, page liii. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


131 


wear and tear of carriages and gearing, and in the smaller num¬ 
ber of horses required to he kept . 1 

The soil of this township varies much: in parts it is of a 
deep loam, of marl and sand, of clay and peat. In the peat 
mosses large trunks of oak and fir trees are frequently found. 
The wood of these oaks is blackened by the water, and so hard 
as to be sawn and worked with difficulty. The firs are cloven 
into spills, and were much used formerly in farm-houses in¬ 
stead of candles. In a field, on the borders of Staffordshire, 
the lower part of which was peat, Joseph Thornhill, the tenant 
of the farm, dug out of the moss a large oak trunk, underneath 
which, about three feet deeper in the peat, was a stone covered 
with moss, and which attracted his eye on account of its regular 
and artificial form; he took it to his wife, who scraped off 
the moss, and revealed a well polished stone—of what kind, 
I know not—smooth as marble, and hard as iron, flattened 
and sharpened at each end. Joseph thought it must be a wet- 
stone; his conjecture was one which his occupation suggested: 
but I have little doubt of its being an instrument of war—a 
celt—which, carried in the hand, would be a formidable and 
deadly weapon at close quarters. It is now in my possession. 

Cheese is the principal produce of the farms, and is made 
in great perfection; obtaining, frequently, a higher price here 
than in other parts of the hundred of Nantwich. The science 
of the day has even reached the dairy; and newly invented 
machinery saves time and labour in making the cheese, and 
pressing it afterwards. Nothing could be more inconvenient 
than the old-fashioned cheese presses; large square blocks of 
rough stone, fixed in a strong oak case, and raised or lowered 
with a thick iron screw: these were placed in a row against the 
wall, and were almost immovable fixtures. The modern ones 
are of cast-iron, and press by means of a lever and weights, or 

1 It may be interesting to note, that in the early part of the 18th century, the 
ancestors of Lord Crewe occupied no less than five days and nights in travelling 
from Crewe Hall to London; a journey now accomplished in as many hours. 


132 


BARTHOMLEY. 


a screw; many are of an elegant, light make, can he easily 
moved from place to place, and are ornamental as well as use- 
ful. The machine for cutting the curd is also pretty and expe¬ 
ditious, and is called a dairy-maid. What is vulgarly, and not 
very elegantly, pronounced 4 thrutching’, is, in large dairies, 
superseded by a screw fastened in the ceiling. It is generally 
supposed, that the quality of the cheese is deteriorated from 
the want of manual “ thrutching”; hut, about this, the learned 
differ. A curd-mill is also used for crushing the curd into 
pieces. 

Several praiseworthy attempts have lately been made to put 
an end to cheese-making on the Sabbath. It cannot fail to be 
observed, by visitors from other counties, how few attend the 
morning service of the church in Cheshire, and almost all of 
those few are men. This is occasioned by the employment of 
females at cheese-making : to them, when 4 milking season has 
commenced, the Sabbath is but half- a-day of rest: and when, in 
the afternoon, they come to church, perhaps after a long walk 
in addition to their morning’s work, nodding heads, or sound 
dosings, rather ludicrously testify to the little good they are 
likely to receive there. Hitherto, Sabbath cheese-making has 
been deemed a necessary, and, therefore, not culpable work. It 
was argued, that the Almighty does not require his providential 
gifts to be sacrificed to the outward observance of an ordinance 
— 44 1 will have mercy, and not sacrifice”; that if the milk is not 
used on the same day it is obtained, it will be spoilt and wasted, 
and a vast amount of property be lost; that it is an act of 
necessity to prevent this, and, consequently, no breach of God’s 
commandment. And, certainly, if there was no other way of 
preventing the loss of the milk on the Sabbath, but by actual 
work in turning it into cheese on the same day, this does ap¬ 
pear to me to be not unfair reasoning: but, if there be a way of 
saving the milk, without this Sabbath labour of cheese-making, 
and without loss to the farmer, than it is no longer a case of 
necessity , but of jgrofaneness and disobedience , to persist in mak- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


133 


ing cheese on the Sunday. Accident may create a necessity; 
the want of proper conveniences in the size and aspect of the 
milk-house may force the farmer to do what he would, per¬ 
haps, gladly avoid. Before we condemn him for Sabbath¬ 
breaking, we must enquire whether an accident does force a 
necessity upon him in this case; and, if so, whence it arises ? 
and how it may be removed ? 

An excellent pamphlet has been addressed to farmers, on the 
sin of Sabbath cheese-making, by the Rev. J. Armitstead, Yicar 
of Sandbach; in which he shews, from his own experience, that 
if the milk-house be large enough and cool enough, the milk will 
not be injured by being kept till Monday. In speaking of the 
milk-house —to use a common phrase—he hits the right nail on 
the head. It is the landlord's duty to accommodate his te¬ 
nants’ offices to their wants; and thus to assist in preventing 
the desecration of the Sabbath by them. The clergy of agri¬ 
cultural parishes would, indeed, be grateful for this. Their 
remonstrances against Sabbath cheese-maldng would not be 
silenced, as they now, frequently, are, with the farmer’s objec¬ 
tion,—“What is to be done with the milk, when I have not 
sufficient room for it? must it be thrown away?” 

The Marquis of Cholmondeley, and John Tollemache, Esq., 
and Mrs. Tomkinson, of Dorfold, with true Christian feeling, 
have, I am told, enlarged the milk-houses at many of their 
farms; and, thereby, opened a way to the successful exertions 
of the Rev. F. Storr, the indefatigable Yicar of Acton, who has 
prevailed with many of his parishioners to give up cheese¬ 
making on the Sabbath. 

A paragraph in the Staffordshire Advertiser , of April 1, 1854, 
which contains an extract from the Chester Courant, I have 
much pleasure in copying for you :— 

“ Sabbath Cheese-making. —Tlie farmers of Leighton, and Minshull Ver¬ 
non, in this county, having heard how satisfactory it would he to their land¬ 
lords, James F. France, Esq., and Edw. Lloyd, Esq., if they were to discon¬ 
tinue the unnecessary practice of cheese-making on the Sabbath day, and 
that they liberally offered to assist them in this object , and were ready to give 


134 


B ARTHOMLEY. 


their support to any plan by which this custom might be dispensed with by 
their tenants , were assembled together during the past week, in the School¬ 
room, at Minshull Vernon, for the purpose of meeting several of the farmers 
of the neighbouring parish of Acton, who had discontinued Sabbath cheese¬ 
making many years, and heard from them how little expense, and with what 
ease it might be done; and both for themselves and their wives (who were 
also present,) the great spiritual benefit they had derived from this their en¬ 
deavour to keep the commandments of their God; and that, on no consi¬ 
deration whatever, would they again commence the practice. It is hoped 
that much good may result from this meeting. [We congratulate the pro¬ 
moters of a better observance of Sunday on the improved regard for religious 
obligations and services, which is extending through the Rural districts.— 
Chester Courant.'Y 

Here ‘the cart is not put before the horse’, the landlords 
take the lead, the tenants follow; this is as it should he; for 
depend upon it, as things are now, a partnership of guilt exists, 
between landlord and tenant, in this desecration of the Sabbath 
day . 1 

Supping , a term for the curds and whey which remain after 
the cheese is made, is one great ingredient of the meals of a 
farm-house. I can recollect when buttermilk and potatoes, and 
a small bit of bacon, formed the dinner of master, mistress, and 
servants: knives and forks were not used; the piece of bacon 
was held in one hand, and nibbled at with careful economy, 
whilst the other hand wielded an iron spoon, which was inces¬ 
santly dipped in a large brown dish of potatoes, rendered tasty 

1 (Note .)—In 1847 I made an attempt, with the entire approval of the Bishop of 
Chester, now Archbishop of Canterbury, to increase the morning congregation at 
Barthomley, by dividing the morning service. At nine a.m. we had “Morning 
Prayer”, as it is termed in the Prayer-book; and at eleven the Litany and the 
Communion Service, and a sermon. I argued, that, in the winter months , the cattle 
could be foddered; and in spring, and summer, and autumn, the cheese, if it 
must be made on the Sabbath, could be made long before eleven; and men, and wo¬ 
men too, might easily come to church at that hour. “ Morning Prayer” was at¬ 
tended by about thirty on an average; but, at the second service, we had a large in¬ 
crease of attendants; probably, more than double the number which, before the di¬ 
vision of the services, used to form the congregation. So far the plan was success¬ 
ful ; and my own conviction is, that, if generally adopted, it would prove a boon to 
the people, and a means of promoting true religion and the interests of the estab¬ 
lished church. In the year 1854, the Committee appointed by Convocation recom¬ 
mended the adoption of a similar plan. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


135 


by a sauce of mixed flour, water, and bacon grease; and very 
savoury and good it smelt; a tin can of buttermilk stood by 
the side of each person. The Shropshire farmers, more ac¬ 
customed to the delicacies of beef and beer, charge ours, in 
Cheshire, with “ living at the best end of the pig trough .” The 
custom, however, is much modified now: every class among us 
has had a rise in this particular, as well as in others. Farmers 
and labourers fare better than they did. 

Social and domestic life has been advanced, in some respects, 
by the neighbouring railway, which affords such unlimited 
means of access to distant places, and prompts many to imitate 
their betters in visiting them; when they return home with new 
and enlarged ideas. Not a long time ago, we had two weddings 
at the church: the parties arrived there in carriages, and 
dressed according to the rules of modern matrimonial fashion; 
after the ceremony they returned straight to the ladies’ (two 
sisters) home, partook of a handsome breakfast; changed their 
dress for one more suited to travelling, stepped once more into 
their carriages, drove to the station, and off to London for the 
honeymoon. The brides were a farmer’s daughters, and had to 
thank the London and North Western Bailway for speedily 
bringing them the fashions, almost to their own doors, and fa¬ 
cilitating their visit to the metropolis, which, in by-gone days, 
they would have despaired of ever seeing. If we had now to 
speak of their parents ’ marriage, it would be to tell of a ride on 
a pilhon, or in a light cart; of returning to the alehouse after 
the marriage service ; of riotously returning half-drunk to their 
own home for dinner; of indecent ribaldry and practical jokes, 
and low intemperance throughout the evening. In truth, it 
would fill a volume, to point out, in detail, the social changes 
for the better, which facilities of general intercourse have ef¬ 
fected even in Barthomley: they are to be seen in the manners 
of the people; their style of greeting; their attention to the little 
agremens of society; and their dress . In summer, after the ‘fa¬ 
shion’ days at the market towns, the newest modes are exhi- 


136 


BARTHOMLEY. 


bited at church; and looking down from the pulpit upon the 
congregation, it looks like a gay parterre of flowers. I remem¬ 
ber a distinctive costume for a farmer’s wife and daughter, and 
their maid-servants, formerly: the mistress came to church 
dignified by a black silk bonnet, edged with lace, and a black 
s ilk mantelet, also edged with lace; her daughter appeared 
much in the same fashion; whilst the servant was very humbly 
clad in a plain straw bonnet and a sober-looking shawl; labour¬ 
ers’ wives in red cloaks in winter; and this costume continued 
without change for many years. The railway has brought also 
a London tailor to Barthomley, and the young men strut about 
on high days and holidays, in clothes made by Mr. Stuart. 

I was delighted, also, at the festival annually given, in the 
pleasure grounds of the Bectory, to the school children, (which, 
you remember, was latterly attended by three or four hundred 
of the young folks from the neighbourhood, and even from dis¬ 
tant towns, and which set tailors and milliners to work with 
double energy, weeks before it came off;) to see the progress of 
refinement among the young people: the bow, the deferential 
invitation to dance, the curtsy, the acceptance, the polite man¬ 
ner of taking the ladies to their place, the quadrille, the polka; 
the attention, afterwards, in handing about refreshments; all 
these things were unknown fifteen years ago, but were practised 
at our festivals just as much as at Ahnacks, we will not say 
in a mode quite so graceful and refined. And, surely, these 
are better, though as yet imperfect, than the boorish, noisy, 
drunken and quarrelsome conduct of parties at fairs and wakes 
—where sensuality, so frequently, strives with blackguardism to 
demoralize and degrade. 

I copy from the Staffordshire Advertiser , a notice of this 
school-festival, in the third year of its establishment; it was 
not written by myself, and, therefore, I hope you will not con¬ 
demn me for self-seeking in giving it you. I insert it merely 
as a passing chronicle of events; if it be too flattering to me, it 
is not my fault:— 


BARTHOMLEY. 


137 


“ Barthomley, Cheshire. —On Wednesday se’nnight, the annual exami¬ 
nation of the Sunday school children took place in the parish church, con¬ 
ducted by the itev. Edward Hinchliffe, M.A., when the children were exam¬ 
ined at considerable length by the Reverend gentleman, in the presence of a 
respectable portion of his congregation, who were highly gratified at the 
readiness and proficiency of the children. The explanations spontaneously 
given by them of the various parts of Scripture, attested, beyond doubt, the 
great pains and trouble taken by the worthy Rector in their religious in¬ 
structions. After the examinations had closed, the Reverend gentleman ad¬ 
dressed the children in the most feeling and impressive terms, exhorting 
them to walk in the good path which he had directed them in, and which 
led to life eternal; and, at the same time, in most affectionate terms, admon¬ 
ished their parents to prevent their offspring from straying out of it. A 
hymn was then sung, and the meeting closed with prayer. Afterwards, the 
Rector, as is usual upon these occasions, regaled the children at his resi¬ 
dence at Barthomley Hall. The Barthomley band was in attendance, and 
enlivened with its music their cheerful, and innocent sports and amusements. 
It is impossible to speak in terms of unqualified praise sufficiently expressive 
of the merits of the Rev. gentleman in his conduct as Rector of the parish, 
ever since his accession to that important office, not only in instructing the 
poor children, and in visiting the sick, and relieving the poor and distressed; 
but also in all those important functions, which so greatly distinguish and 
exalt the character of a Christian man, and, more especially, that of a Cler¬ 
gyman.” 

Notwithstanding improvement, many evil habits still linger 
in our township, and, in fact, in our whole county, and the 
adjoining ones. Drunkenness is one of these: and, I confess, 
that few things gave me, when Rector of Barthomley, so much 
real affliction as the continuance of this vice among farmers . 
Not only do many commit this foul sin without compunction, 
but even glory in their shame. At their social entertainments 
there is drunkenness; at marriages, christenings, and at bu¬ 
rials, drunkenness; at their parochial meetings, and at the 
rent day, drunkenness; at the market, drunkenness; indeed, 
to be market-fresh , is a term in common use, to express a 
thing of course. I called at a farm-house to enquire what was 
the matter with the farmer, as he was not at church on the 
previous Sunday, his wife (without seeming to think there 
was anything wrong in it,) immediately replied, “ Oh! Sir, he 
had a very had headache, for he came home market-fresh on 

s 


138 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Saturday. Now, if the natural delicacy of females is not of¬ 
fended by this low excess; if wives can talk thus flippantly of 
a deadly and disgusting sin, I fear the deep-rootedness of the 
evil will require many more years of moral training before it 
can he eradicated. Let me say, however, that the leaven of 
education is already working in the lump, and that many of 
the young people are comparatively free from this vice. 

Strict rules of honesty are not always observed as they ought 
to he; a little overreaching at the fair, and market; a little 
injustice to labourers, who do task work, are considered proofs 
of shrewdness, and of being a sharp fellow. 

But, after all, the great crying evil, of our agricultural popu¬ 
lation, is the general profligacy of the sexes. “ Who can find a 
virtuous woman ? for her price is far above rubies,” 1 is a per¬ 
plexing question, not solely applicable to the days of the Wise¬ 
man. Would that the prophecy of King Lemuel’s mother was 
more heeded than it is, it contains most valuable lessons for 
personal and domestic practise. “ Many daughters would then 
do virtuously, and learn to excel all those who have gone before 
them,” and prove an honour to their families and neighbour¬ 
hood. Poets talk of the simplicity and purity of a country life! 
it is an arcadian fiction, belonging to their own class, not to the 
agricultural class of Cheshire. The simplicity that exists in it, I 
say it with a heavy heart, is the coarse simplicity of unvarnished 
immorality. A farm-house is, much too often, a nursery for 
this. Here young persons, of each sex, come at an early age; 
freed from the restraints of school or parental authority; treated 
only as animals who are to work for food and wages; their reli¬ 
gious and moral welfare very, very little, attended to, in most 
instances wholly neglected, by their employers; thrown together 
at times, and in places, favorable to the secret indulgence of 
their passions; and what is ten times worse, and a disgrace to 
the whole county, permitted, actually permitted, to meet in the 
evenings of Saturday, and stay all night in company with each 


1 Prov. xxxi, 10. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


139 


other, either in the house, or in the outbuildings, the doors being 
left unlocked expressly for the purpose! Now, Cheshire, and 
parts of those counties which border upon it, have an unenviable 
notoriety for this; the custom is called “ sitting up,” and it is 
the fruitful scource of profligacy, heartburnings, and wretched¬ 
ness through life. 

I attempted to put an end to it in the parish, and egre- 
giously failed. In justice to the farmers here, I must say 
that they all deplored the habit, and, at my request, signed a 
compact not to allow it in their houses. The time for hiring 
came, and servants refused to live with them unless they were 
to have their ancient privilege; and the farmers, from necessity, 
gave way. 

Often, when some of my elder school-children came to 
say farewell, on leaving school, I have been almost moved to 
weeping, when they told me they were going out to service. I 
felt that the sacred link which bound us together was, perhaps, 
now about to be broken for ever; that the contaminations of a 
farm-house might stifle the good seed sown, and just appearing 
above the ground; and that the next state of that poor child 
might be one of utter depravity. 

Alas! how many Cheshire clergymen can testify to realities 
of this sort, and how gladly would they hail any well-directed 
efforts of the rich proprietors of land, to co-operate with them 
in checking the evil! Around their parks; near their own 
mansions; the abode of every luxury and refinement; a mul¬ 
titude of human beings exists, who have no higher aim than 
to gratify animal self; and who live and die in brutal igno¬ 
rance of whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are 
honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, 
whatsoever tilings are lovely, whatsoever things are of good re¬ 
port. What a noble work for the rich and great, to raise these 
degraded beings in the scale of intelligence, to teach them that, 
in spite of sin, a dignity is attached to their nature in the en¬ 
dowment and exercise of reason. That they are not sent into 


140 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the world simply to eat, drink, and sleep; and plough and sow, 
and reap; and sell, and get gain; hut to serve their God, anti 
their country, and themselves; by industry and knowledge, by 
sobriety and charity, and holiness of life. And they must begin 
with the farmer. He must be taught, what he knows not now, 
that the law of God, and the law of nationality, constitute man¬ 
kind a family; and that pounds, shillings, and pence, must have 
a subordinate position in the regulation and treatment of the 
family, not an usurped tyrannical rule over it; that he has no 
right to set at nought domestic bonds, and social, and, above 
all, Christian relationships, for the corn, or the cheese; in 
short, for money; and to regard his labourers and servants as 
mere machines of flesh and blood to produce these. That his 
house must become a home of morality and kindness, founded 
on Christian responsibilities and obligations, and thus fitted to 
receive the servant as a Christian inmate; instead of being a 
receptacle of vice, a scene of conflict and moral ruin. 

Then, they must go on to the people —the labourer and his fa- 
mily, and provide their cottages with rooms enough for the sepa¬ 
ration of the sexes at night. Schools must be instituted under 
efficient teachers, and near at hand, where the mind and body 
shall be disciplined , and the memory not overloaded with cate¬ 
chisms, disconnected facts, names, and dates; which serve for a 
brilliant flash at examinations, and afford no knowledge of prin¬ 
ciples ; and, especially, of the principles of the ordinary opera¬ 
tions of lif e. Some plan of social justice must be adopted to 
influence the parent to keep his child longer at school than 
children now are kept; that the parent be not driven by the 
cravings of necessity, to take his child away from instruction, 
just at the precise moment of his life, when his mind is begin¬ 
ning to expand, to perceive the fitness of things, and to benefit 
largely from his lessons. 

When these things are done, based upon the gracious will of 
God and his eternal love, there may be some hope of moral im¬ 
provement—a moral revolution. You will think, I dare say, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


141 


that before these things can he done, a great moral change 
must be made in the higher classes themselves. I quite agree 
with you. “ Men are made for mutual help,” says Seneca; 
“Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of 
Christ;” “Ye are members one of another;” saith the Scrip¬ 
ture ; and it is the selfish tearing asunder, by the spirit of the 
world, of the bonds of family union and family interests, sepa¬ 
rating class from class, which is yet the great hindrance to 
moral and mental progress. Re-unite these ‘ by that most ex¬ 
cellent gift of charity, the very bond of peace, and of all vir¬ 
tues ;’ and every class will experience an elevation and blessing, 
which will amply repay the most devoted personal and pecunia¬ 
ry sacrifice. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XIII. 


MY DEAR BOY, 



HE customs of Barthomley are Cheshire cus- 
^ toms, and not peculiar to the place. Michael 
Drayton has observed of the inhabitants of this 
county, “ that they, of all England, most to an- 
tient customs cleave,” and, until somewhat recently, Barthom¬ 
ley would have afforded some proof of the truth of this remark. 
We used to have Christmas plays, which, within a few years 
only, have been discontinued. Ormerod’s account of them is 
very correct i 1 — 


“Plays,” he says, “still occasionally are acted in the farm-houses, and 
the kitchens of the country mansions, by a set of performers dressed in cha¬ 
racter, consisting chiefly of cottagers and husbandmen, who are paid with 


1 History of Cheshire, vol. 1, General Introduction, page 51. 






BARTHOMLEY. 


142 

money, drink, or apples. An entire play was communicated to the author, 
which was taken down verbatim, by a resident in the county, from a per¬ 
former’s recitation in 1817, without the variation of a single word, and was, 
in the first instance set up for printing in the accompanying notes, but ap¬ 
peared on revision so extremely barbarous, that it seemed desirable to sub¬ 
stitute the following abstract. 

“ The Mock Play, entitled ‘ St. George and Slasher,’ commences with a 
prologue delivered by ‘the first and second captains,’ who announce that 
they are come to ‘ act the Champion,’ and call on St. George to enter, who 
accordingly appears and addresses the audience as follows:— 

I am St. George, the noble Champion bold, 

And with my glittering sword I’ve won three crowns of gold, 

It’s I who fought the fiery dragon, 

And brought him to the slaughter, 

And by that means I won fair Sabra, 

The king of Egypt’s daughter. 

Seven have I won, yet married none, 

But since they’ve begun the thing 
Call’d Matrimony, in this land 
Which our King George doth rule. 

With sword in hand, 

And who is he who dare against me stand ? 

I'll swear I’ll cut him down 
With my victorious brand. 

“The challenge is accepted by bold Slasher, who appears to be intended 
for the ‘ Baron of Chester,’ in Johnson’s romance. St George replies, and 
the parties sing a duet, shake hands, and fight, and Slasher is slain. Here¬ 
upon the king (who is made to be Slasher’s father,) enters, and summons to 
his assistance Sir Guy,! ‘one of the chiefest men in the world’s wonder,” 
who contents himself with calling a doctor. The Physician vaunts of his 
travels and science in a long strain of mock heroic, and then pours his medi¬ 
cine into Slasher’s mouth, who instantly comes to life and pronounces a 
short eulogy on his medical skill. Then the Pool introduces himself with 
a speech commencing— 

‘ I am not the prince of Beelzebub, 

But upon my shoulder I carry a club, 

And under my arm a dripping-pan,’ &c. 

“ He then presents his ladle, and the mock-play closes with the usual ap¬ 
peal to the liberality of the audience.” 

I have often been a spectator of these plays, which were 
sometimes acted with considerable humour; especially when 
the fool had a native talent for versification, and interlarded 


BARTHOMLEY. 


143 


his part—not always marked by decency of language—with 
comical observations on the passing events of the neighbour¬ 
hood, which were quickly apprehended by the rustic or do¬ 
mestic audience, and hailed with peals of laughter. 

Souling , or begging and puling for Soul-cakes, is another 
custom observed on All-Souls’ eve. The “ Soulers” go from 
house to house, and sing a song, for which they receive either 
soul-cakes, or pears, or apples, or ale. Children are the song¬ 
sters during the day, but when night comes, and puts an end 
to work, the farmers’ servants, and young men of the village, 
sally forth and startle the quiet night with their bawling: this 
ends, most commonly, in row and drunkenness. Here is the 
song itself:— 

“ You gentlemen of England, I would have you to draw near 
To these few lines which we have wrote, and you soon shall hear 
Sweet melody of music all on this ev’ning clear, 

For we are come a souling for apples and strong beer. 

Step down into your cellar and see what you can find, 

If your barrels are not empty, I hope you will prove kind, 

I hope you will prove kind with your apples and strong beer, 

We’ll come no more a souling until another year. 

Cold winter it is coming on, dark, dirty, wet, and cold, 

To tiy your good-nature this night we do make bold; 

This night we do make bold with your apples and strong beer, 

We will come no more a souling until another year. 

All the houses that we’ve been at we have had both meat and drink; 
So now we’re dry with travelling I hope you’ll on us think; 

I hope you’ll on us think with your apples and strong beer, 

For we’ll come no more a souling until another year. 

God bless the master of this house and the mistress also, 

And all the littlo children that round the table go, 
likewise your men and maidens, your cattle and your store, 

And all that lies within your gates, I wish you ten times more; 

I wish you ten times more with your apples and strong beer, 

For we’ll come no more a souling until another year.” 

This “ sweet melody of music,” for many years of my life, 
often reached me when I had retired to rest, and its plaintive 
tones, softened by distance, used to lull me gradually to sleep. 
The song of the children was short and to the point: 


144 


BARTHOMLEY. 


“ Soul, soul, for an apple or two, 

If you have no apples, pears will do; 

Pray, good mistress, a soul-cake ?” 

About three weeks before Christmas, women go about beg¬ 
ging corn: a quart of wheat is usually given to each by the far¬ 
mers, and of this is made a Christmas batch; very acceptable 
at this season, for every unmarried member of the family will 
soon be at home, in consequence of the week’s holiday allowed 
to agricultural servants at Christmas. 

On the day of the Archdeacon’s annual visitation, at Nant- 
wich, when the newly appointed Churchwardens make their de¬ 
claration, and enter upon their office; it was the custom for the 
old and new Wardens, with their Sidesmen, to hurry back to 
Barthomley, in order to be in time for the inauguration dinner 
held there. As they neared the village, the long-tailed cart¬ 
horses were pushed, by their riders, at the top of their speed, 
and came galloping into it breathless and foaming. There was 
as much of whipping, spurring, and jockeying, to come in first, 
as at Doncaster, or Newmarket. These were facetiously called 
Barthomley Races. 

The dinner was usually well-attended by those who are rus¬ 
tically denominated “ the heads of the town ”; and concluded 
with a very peculiar ceremony. I made a point to join the par¬ 
ty on this anniversary, and was not a little surprised, on my 
first attendance, to see, after grace, a tall thin man, of a very 
sad and serious countenance, rise gravely and quietly from his 
seat, and, accompanied by another, disappear from the room. 
A general titter followed this movement, for all appeared to 
know what was coming. By and by, this same tall figure re¬ 
turned, with a red-hot poker in one hand, and a piece of resin 
in the other, his companion carrying a plate; he looked around, 
and solemnly stealing behind one of the company—present for 
the first time on that occasion; or filling, for the first time, 
some parochial office,—placed the resin close to his back, touched 
it with the poker: phiz ! and a smoke and smell, and the plate 
is presented to him, for half-a-crown! This is termed “ dock- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


145 


ing the colt”; preparing him for further work; and several 
colts are sometimes docked on the same day. Samuel Whit¬ 
taker, the serious-looking man of whom I spake, has for many 
years been ‘the Veterinary Surgeon,’ to the lull approbation 
of all. The docking money is added to the dinner fund. 

The new bell-ropes are handseled on this day. The far¬ 
mers pulling away at them with all their might, for ringing it 
cannot be called. After this ceremony, the ringers—the true 
men—have a treat at the public house. 

The dinner party is cheered by the songs of amateurs; occa¬ 
sionally we had both good songs, and good singing. One old 
song, in honour of the family of the lord of the manor, was al¬ 
ways sung at these meetings, and on rent days, &c., which I will 
insert below. It was accompanied by peculiar gestures, which 
the whole company were expected correctly to imitate, or be 
subject to a fine: the singer being the fugleman. A new recruit 
was narrowly watched, and seldom escaped the penalty of his 

awkwardness or inattention. 

“ Come, brave boys, prosperation! 

Be to tbe Church and Nation! 

Come, brave boys! 

Here is a health to the heir of Crewe! 

With our hats all on the ground; 

So let the health go round; 

He’s a Noble Lord by birth and fame ; 

He’s a root and a branch of an honourable name; 

He’s a churchman bold; 

He’s a heart of gold. 

He’s a fool and an ass, 

That refuses his glass; 

Here’s a health to the heir of Crewe! 

Crewe, Crewe, Crewe, boys! Crewe! 

Here’s a health to the heir of Crewe!” 

‘Lifting,’ an antient usage, on Easter Monday and Tuesday, 
is still observed; on Monday the ladies , on Tuesday the gentle¬ 
men , are favoured with this ceremonial exaltation. Early in 
the morning of each of these days, an arm-chair, decorated with 
flowers and ribbons, was placed at the foot of the front stair - 

T 


146 


BARTHOMLEY. 


case of the Rectory, in which your Mamma, according to rule, 
first seated herself, and was gently raised by the servants three 
times into the air; your sisters, and any female visitors, suc¬ 
ceeded to the same honour. 

On the next day, I underwent a similar treatment, which 
drew forth no little degree of mirth from the female lifters, 
who, of course, were rewarded for their trouble. These little 
familiarities of the season, coming but once a year, are, I am 
sure, advantageous to all parties, promoting good-humour and 
kind feeling among classes kept too much apart in England. 
Speaking for myself, I was always glad of the opportunity to 
make this merry custom an excuse for presenting an annual 
gift to my household, and which they seemed to value exceed¬ 
ingly. As these little customs are fast disappearing, the record 
of them becomes more precious. 

The games of the parish were those generally played through¬ 
out the county: Prison-bars once taking the lead. On a Sa¬ 
turday evening, in summer, after the week’s work was finished, 
the monotonous beating of a drum might be heard; it bore a 
challenge to a match at prison-bars from one township to ano¬ 
ther, and was usually sent by a neighbouring publican for the 
benefit of his own house. Out of his windows flaunted ribbons 
of various colours, which were given, after the game, to the vic¬ 
tors, who, binding them round their hats, strutted about to 
their own satisfaction and the public admiration. 

Strutt, in his book of “ Sports and Pastimes of the People of 
England,” writes thus of prison-bars:— 

There is a rustic game called Base or Bars, and sometimes written 
Bays, and in some places Prisoner’s bars: and as the success of this pastime 
depends upon the agility of the candidates and their skill in running, I think 
it may properly enough be introduced here. It was much practised in for¬ 
mer times, and some vestiges of the game are still remaining in many parts 
of the kingdom. The first mention of this sport that I have met with occurs 
in the Proclamations at the head of the parliamentary proceedings, early in 
the reign of Edward the Third, where it is spoken of as a childish amuse¬ 
ment, and prohibited to be played in the avenues of the palace at Westmin¬ 
ster, during the sessions of Parliament, because of the interruption it occa- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


147 


sioned to the members and others in passing to and fro as their business re¬ 
quired. It is also spoken of by Shakespear as a game practised by the boys: 

‘ He, with two striplings (lads more like to run 

The country base, than to commit such slaughter;) 

Made good the passage.’ 

“ It was, however, most assuredly played by the men, and especially in 
Cheshire and other adjoining counties, where formerly it seems to have been 
in high repute. 

“ The performance of this pastime requires two parties of equal number, 
each of them having a base or home, as it is usually called, to themselves, at 
the distance of about twenty or thirty yards. The players, then, on either 
side taking hold of hands, extend themselves in length, and opposite to each 
other, as far as they conveniently can, always remembering that one of them 
must touch the base; when any one of them quits the hand of his fellow and 
runs into the-field, which is called giving the chase, he is immediately followed 
by one of his opponents; he is again followed by a second from the former 
side, and he by a second opponent; and so on alternately, until as many are out 
as choose to run, every one pursuing the man he first followed, and no other; 
and if he overtake him near enough to touch him, his'party claims one to¬ 
ward their game, and both return home. They then run forth again and 
again in like manner, until the number is completed that decides the victo¬ 
ry; this number is optional, and I am told rarely exceeds twenty. It is to 
be observed, that every person on either side who touches another during 
the chase, claims one for his party, and when many are out, it frequently 
happens that many are touched. About 1770 I saw a grand match at base, 
played in the fields behind Montague house, by twelve gentlemen of Cheshire 
against twelve of Derbyshire, for a considerable sum of money, which afford¬ 
ed much entertainment to the spectators. In Essex they play this game with 
the addition of two prisons, which are stakes driven into the ground, parallel 
with the home boundaries, and about thirty yards from them; and every per¬ 
son who is touched, on either side, in the chase, is sent to one or other of 
these prisons, where he must remain till the conclusion of the game, if not 
delivered previously by one of his associates, and this can only be accom¬ 
plished by touching him, which is a difficult task, requiring the performance 
of the most skilful players, because the prison belonging to either party is 
always much nearer to the base of their opponents tnan to their own; and 
if the person sent to relieve his confederate be touched by an antagonist be¬ 
fore he reaches him, he also becomes a prisoner, and stands in equal need of 
deliverance. The addition of the prisons occasions a considerable degree of 
variety in the pastime, and is frequently productive of much pleasantry.” 

In Cheshire the players lay aside as many of their garments 
as decency will permit: appearing without shirts, in flannel or 
cotton sleeved waistcoats, and in linen drawers; they run bare- 


148 


BARTHOMLEY. 


footed, carrying as little weight as possible. The eagerness to 
touch, or tick, an opponent is frequently evinced by the player, 
when two or three yards or more from him, throwing himself 
forward with a tremendous spring, and falling flat on the 
ground, one arm extended to reach his adversary; I have seen 
wonderful feats done in this way, many yards of ground being 
covered by this spring; and which sometimes occasioned no 
slight bruises to the man who made it. Prison-bars are now 
superseded by cricket; an importation from the south, intro¬ 
duced by that revolutionist the railway. Two years before I 
left the parish a cricket-club was formed there, and went on 
prosperously. Tip-cat was also once a favorite game. 

Many years ago wakes , too, were held at Barthomley. 

“ When first instituted in this country” says Strutt, “ they were estab¬ 
lished on religious principles, and greatly resembled the Agapse or love feasts 
of the early Christians. It seems, however, clear that they derived their 
origin from some more ancient rites practised in the times of Paganism. 
Hence, Pope Gregory, in his letter to Melitus, a British Abbot, says, ‘Where¬ 
as the people were accustomed to sacrifice many oxen in honor of doemons, 
let them celebrate a religious and solemn festival, and not slay the animals, 
diabolo, to the devil, but to be eaten by themselves, ad laudem Dei, to the 
praise of God/ 1 These festivals were primitively held upon the day of the 
dedication of the Church in each district, or the birth-day of the saint whose 
reiiques where therein deposited, or to whose honor it was consecrated; for 
which purpose, the people were directed to make booths and tents with the 
boughs of trees, adjoining to the churches, and in them to celebrate the 
feast with thanksgiving and prayer. In process of time, the people as¬ 
sembled on the vigil, or evening preceding the saint’s day, and came, says 
an old author, ‘ to churche with candellys burnjng, and would wake and 
come toward night to the churche in their devocion, agreable to the re¬ 
quisition contained in one of the canons established by King Edgar, where¬ 
by those who came to the wake were ordered to pray devoutly, and not to 
betake themselves to drunkenness and debauchery. The necessity for this 
restriction plainly indicates that abuses of this religious institution began to 
make their appearance as early as the tenth century. 

As elsewhere, abuses crept into the celebration of the wakes 
at Barthomley, and the “ baiting of animals” (which was fashion¬ 
able in former times, and was considered a proper pastime for 


1 Bede’s Eccles. His. lib. i. cap. 30. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


149 


the amusement of the highest rank, even of Queen Elizabeth,) 
became an attraction. Bear-baiting is yet spoken of, and one of 
the glebe-fields, in which this savage exhibition took place, is 
called the bear-croft to this day. At one of these brutal enter¬ 
tainments, in this field, a man was killed by the hear, and in 
consequence thereof the magistrates abolished the wakes. Thus, 
the loss of human life effected what the destruction of human 
morals could not. The precise period of holding the wakes 
cannot now he correctly stated, or it might serve to determine 
St. Bettelin’s day, respecting which authorities differ. 

Unhappily, the clubs, or, as they are called, benevolent socie¬ 
ties, have, to some extent, supplied the place of wakes. They 
were established, at first, with the kindest motives, by Lord and 
Lady Crewe. The anniversary of the Female’s Club is now 
held on the 10th of August, being the birth-day of the present 
Lord Crewe, and that of the Men’s Club in the month of July. 
After the ceremony of attending church, the members of the 
club sat down to dinner, at one of the public houses, which, in 
the evening, was thronged with visitors, who kept up the dance 
all night. The village was crowded with people in their best 
clothes; a hand of music; women with stalls of nuts, fruit, 
cakes and gingerbread, tempted the passers by, who gambled 
or shot at a mark with bullets of chalk, for a prize of these 
excellencies; men and great hoys amused themselves by throw¬ 
ing at snuff-boxes, tobacco-boxes, and trinkets placed upon 
sticks fixed in a hole; swings, roundabouts, aerial boats, &c., 
were in great requisition; and ballad singers, with their nasal 
twang, added to the sounds of general uproar; all this would he 
comparatively harmless, were it not that the day was frequently 
disgraced by drunken brawls and fighting, and acts of licen¬ 
tiousness. As an old author writes, “the pepul fell to letcherie, 
and song, and daunses, with harping and piping, and also to 
gluttony and sin; and so tourned the holyness to cursydness.” 
Pity it is that good things should be so abused; how much bet¬ 
ter would the money, spent in sinful folly, be devoted to the 
benefit of the sick and infirm members of the club. 


150 


BAItTJIOMLEY. 


Superstition still lingers among the lower classes. Warn¬ 
ing*— such as death-raps, second sight, &c., are fully believed 
in. Bogarts, pronounced hugguts,—a word very like the one 
applied by the Irish to their world of little spirits, ‘ bogie/—are 
to be met with in different places: a black dog , for instance, 
gallops, at dusk, along the road between the rectory and its 
farm-buildings: a figure in white is 4 sometimes seen’ in the 
church-fields; and a woman without a head haunts a portion of 
the lane at the hack of Mr. Pedley’s, of Crewe. 

A superstition prevailed respecting the lich-gates, which do 
not now exist, hut formerly stood close to the entrance gates of 
the Rectory. Lich-gates, as probably you are not aware, are 
the gates through which the dead are carried to the grave, and 
derive their name from the Saxon word lie, or lice—a dead body, 
or corpse. According to the vulgar notion at Barthomley, all 
who pass through these gates to he married will be subjected to 
some great calamity: either one of the married pair will die with¬ 
in a year from the celebration of the marriage, or the marriage 
will prove unhappy. Of course, the lich-gates were carefully 
avoided, by most parties, on these merry occasions. But I remem¬ 
ber one couple, lately come into the parish, and ignorant of the 
prevailing superstition, boldly marching through these gates to 
the church and altar, to the great horror of some old ladies, who 
were looking on, and who shook their heads most forebodingly 
of evil. What the result of this incautious step is I cannot tell; 
but neither of the married pair died within the year; and whether 
the marriage state has added to their happiness, in spite of 
their awful transit through these gates, it is not for me to say. 

“ Aided by Fancy, Torror lifts his head, 

And leaves the dreary mansions of the dead, 

In shapes more various mocks at human care, 

Than e’er tho fabled Proteus us’d to wear; 

Now, in the lonoly way each traveller’s dread, 

He stalks a giant-shape without a head; 

Now, in tho haunted house, his dread domain, 

Tho curtain draws, and shakes the clinking chain; 

Hence fabled Ghosts arise, and spectres dire, 

Theme of each ov’ning tale by winter’s fire.” 

—“ Pratt's Superstition ” 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


151 


N Natural History there is nothing remarkable 
to narrate, that I know of. Several species of 
wild-fowl frequented Mannelcy Merc, when it 
was larger and wilder than it is now; among 
these the rough and reeve. Sivallowx I have seen for many 
years, between the 20th and 23rd of April; and the first swal¬ 
low, in each year, that shewed itself to me was, invariably, near 
the east end of the rectory barn. 1 Redstarts arrive, also, to¬ 
wards the end of April. 

In the autumn of 1838, my gardener, James Parrott, came 
into my sick-room to tell me, that a flock of very curious birds 
had settled on the two large larch-trees in the pleasure grounds, 
and were pecking away at the fir cones. lie described them 

1 This circumstance might seem to favour Mr. White’s theory of the torpidity 
of the swallow. In his 3Gth letter, dated “ Selbornc, Nov. 22, 1777,” he states, 
“You cannot hut remember, that the 2Gth and 27th of last March were very hot 
days; so sultry, that every body complained, and were restless under those sensa¬ 
tions to which they had not been reconciled by gradual approaches. 

“ This sudden summer-like heat was attended by many summer coincidences ; 
for, on those two days, the thermometer rose to GG° in the shade; many species of 
insects revived and came forth ; some bees swarmed in this neighbourhood ; the old 
tortoise, near Lewes, awakened and came forth out of its dormitory; and, what is 

most to my present purpose, many house-swallows appeared.hut as that short 

warm period was succeeded, as well as preceded, by harsh severe weather, with 
frequent frosts and ice, and cutting winds, the insects withdrew, the tortoise retired 
again into the ground, and the swallows were seen no more until the 10th of April, 

when, the rigour of the spring abating, a softer season began to prevail.”- 

“ From all these circumstances laid together, it is obvious that torpid insects, reptiles, 
and quadrupeds, are awakened from their profoundest slumbers by a little un¬ 
timely warmth, and, therefore, that nothing so much promotes this death-like stupor 
as a defect of heat. And farther, it is reasonable to suppose, that two whole 
species, or at least many individuals of those two species, o 1 British Ilirundines, 
do never leave this island at all, hut partake of the same benumbed state; for wo 
cannot suppose that, after a month’s absence, house martins can return from 
southern-regions to appear for one morning in November, or that house-swallows 
should leave the districts of Africa to enjoy, in March, the transient summer of a 
couple of days.” Mr. D. Barrington held the same opinion. I conceive, however, 
that the regular appearance of the swallow at the spot I mentioned, was caused 
by its being born there, and seeking, in consequence, the locality most familiar 
to it; an exercise of instinct not at all unnatural nor unlikely; why may not 
swallows have their associations? 







152 


BAHTHOMLEY. 


to be like little parrots, and of various colours, and so tame 
that he could easily catch some with his hand. I told him to 
bring me two, which he did immediately; one was cherry co¬ 
loured, the other of a dusky green. I put them in a cage, and 
was much amused with their sportive tricks. They seized the 
cone with one foot, and held it up to their crooked beaks, and 
tore asunder scale after scale, picking out the seeds with won¬ 
derful rapidity. When my supply of cones was gone, I tried 
other food for them, but they sickened and died. I had them 
stuffed, and they are now in the glass case on the chimney 
piece of your sister’s school-room. 

These birds are cross-bills , of which there are three species. 
I will trouble you with the learned names of them, loxia curvi- 
rostra, loxia pittyoi^sittacus, loxia falcirostra. The loxia curvi- 
rostra, a native of Germany, frequently visits this country in 
flocks from ten to eighty, or a hundred in number; during the 
winter. 1 

I have, for the present, done with Barthomley. Our next 
stroll shall be through Balterley. 

Yours, &c. 

1 Mr. Yarrell, in a number of tbe Zoological Journal, has supplied some very in¬ 
teresting information respecting the formation and direction of the beak of the com¬ 
mon cross-bill. “Tbe beak of the cross-bill,” he says, “is altogether unique in its 
form; the mandibles do not lie upon each other, with their lateral edges in opposi¬ 
tion, as in other birds, but curve to the right and left, and always in opposite direc¬ 
tions to each other. In some specimens tbe upper mandibles curve downwards and 
to the left; the under portion turned upwards, and to the right. When holding the 
head of this bird in my fingers, I found I could bring the upper mandible in a line 
underneath, and touching the point of the upper, but not beyond it, towards the left 
side; while, on its own side, the point passed with ease to the distance of three- 
eights of an inch. The upper maodible has a limited degree of motion on the cra¬ 
nium, the superior maxillary and nasal bones being united to the frontal by flexible 
bony laminae. 

“ The form, as well as the magnitude, of the processes of some of the bones of 
the head are also peculiar to this bird. The pterygoid processes of the palatine 
bones are considerably elongated downwards, to afford space for the insertion of the 
large pterygoid muscles. The os omoideum on each side is strongly articulated to 
the os quadratum; when, therefore, the os quadratum is pulled upwards and forwards 
by its own peculiar muscles, the jugal bone on each side, by its pressure forwards, 
elevates the upper mandible. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


153 


The inferior projecting process of the os quadratum, to which the lower jaw is 
articulated, in most other birds is somewhat linear from before backwards, and com¬ 
pressed at the sides, admitting vertical motion olny upwards and downwards; the 
same process in the cross-bill is spherical. The cavity in the lower jaw, destined to 
receive this process, is a hollow circular cup. The union of these two portions, 
therefore, forms an articulation possessing the universal motion and flexibility of the 
mechanical ball and socket joint. The lower jaw is of great strength, the sides or 
plates elevated, with prominent coronoid processes, to which, as well as to the whole 
outer sides of the plates, the temporal muscle is attached ; and in a head of this bird, 
which had been divested of all the soft parts, I found, on sliding the lower laterally 
upon the upper, as pertormed by the bird, that before the coronoid process is brought 
into contact with the pterygoid, on its own side, the extreme points of the mandibles 
were separated laterally to the extent I have already mentioned, of three-eighths of 
an inch. The temporal and pyramidal muscles on the right side of the head (that 
being the side to which the lower jaw inclined,) were considerably larger than those 
of the left, and indicated, by their bulk, the great lateral power this bird is capable of 
exerting, to be hereafter noticed. The unusual large size of the pterygoid muscles, 
on each side, was very conspicuous, the space for them being obtained by the great 
distance to which the articulated extremities of the lower jaw were removed; and 
the food of the bird being small seeds, rendered a narrow pharynx sufficient for the 
purpose of swallowing. The muscles depressing the lower mandible are three in 
number, only one of which, the greater pyramidal, is visible. This strong muscle 
covers two other small ones, the triangular and square muscles, so called from their 
particular shape. These three muscles, all of which have their origin in the occipi¬ 
tal portion of the cranium, are inserted by strong tendons on the under and back of 
each extremity of the lower jaw, behind the centre of motion, and, consequently, by 
their simultaneous contraction, raise the point to which they are attached, and de¬ 
press the anterior part of the mandible. The lower portions of the ossa quadrata are 
pushed somewhat forwards by this compression, assisted by two small muscles; one 
of these, a small flat muscle, arises from the septum of the orbits, behind the small 
aperture observed in the septum, and passes downwards to be inserted upon the pro¬ 
jecting styloid process of the os quadratum. The second is a small pyramidal¬ 
shaped muscle, arising also from the septum, anterior to the other muscle, and, 
passing downwards and backwards, is inserted upon the omeideum, both by their 
contraction pulling the os quadratum forwards, and thus elevating the other mandi¬ 
ble. The depressors of the lower jaw, and the elevators of the upper, therefore, act 
together to separate the mandibles. To close the mandibles, the temporal and pte¬ 
rygoid muscles elevate the lower jaw, assisted by slender slips, which, extending 
forwards to the superior maxillary bones, act in concert, by bringing them down. 
When the lateral motion is required, the great pyramidal muscle on the right side 
pulls the extremity of the lower jaw, to which it is attached, backwards, the ptery¬ 
goid muscles, on the left side, at the same time powerfully assisting, by carrying 
that side of the lower jaw inwards.” 

Mr. Yarrell next goes on to explain the use of the tongue. Their food is the 
seeds of the different fir cones; and their mode of operation, when proceeding to ex¬ 
tract them, is this:—They first fix themselves across the cone; then, bringing the 
points of the maxilla from their crossed or lateral position to lie immediately 

Y 


over 




154 BARTHOMLEY. 

each other, in this reduced compass they insinuate their beaks between the scales, 
and then opening them, not in the usual manner, but by drawing the inferior maxil¬ 
la sideways, force open the scales. Mr. Yarrell then proceedsAt this stage of 
the proceeding, the aid of the tongue becomes necessary, and this organ is no less 
admirably adapted for the service required. The os hyoides, or bone of the tongue, 
has articulated to its anterior extremity an additional portion, formed partly of bone, 
with a horny covering. In shape it is narrow, about three-eighths of an inch in 
length, and extends downwards and forwards, the sides curved upwards, the dystal 
extremity shaped like a scoop, somewhat pointed and thin on both edges, the proxi¬ 
mal extremity ending in two small processes, elongated upwards and backwards 
above the articulation with the bone of the tongue, each process having inserted up¬ 
on it a slender muscle extending backwards to the glottis, and attached to those 
hyoides, at the other to the moveable piece, and by its action, as an antagonist to 
the upper muscles, bends the point downwards and backwards; while, therefore, 
the point of the beak presses the shell from the body of the cone, the tongue, 
brought forward by its own muscle, (genio-hyoideus,) is enabled, by the additional 
muscles described, to direct and insert its cutting scoop underneath the seed, and 
the food thus dislodged is transferred to the mouth; and, when the mandibles are 
separated laterally in this operation, the bird has an uninterrupted view of the seed 
in the cavity, with the eye on that side to which the under mandible is curved.” 

A plainer account of these birds from Bewick will perhaps please you:—“ Cross¬ 
bill: Shel-apple. This bird is about the size of a lark,” (the specimens we have 
are larger,) “ being nearly seven inches in length. It is distinguished by a peculiar 
formation of bill, the upper and under mandibles curving in opposite directions and 
crossing each other at the points. The eyes are hazel. They are in general reddish, 
mixed with brown in the upper parts : the under parts are considerably paler, being 
almost white at the vent. The wings are short, not reaching farther than the setting 
on of the tail, and of a brown colour: the tail is of the same colour, somewhat 
forked: the legs are black. Individuals vary in the colours of their plumage; 
among a great number hardly two are exactly similar; they likewise vary with the 
season, and according to the age of the bird. Edwards paints the male of a rose 
colour, and the female of a yellowish green, mixed more or less with brown. Both 
sexes appear very different at different times of the year. The cross-bill is an inha¬ 
bitant of colder climates, and has been found as far as Greenland. It breeds in 
Russia, Sweden, Poland, Germany, in the mountains of Switzerland, among the 
Alps, and the Pyrenees, whence it migrates in vast flocks to other countries. Some¬ 
times it is met with in great numbers in this country, but its visits are not regular, 
as some years it is rarely seen. Its principal food is said to be the seeds of the pine 
tree; it is observed to hold the cone in one claw like a parrot: and when kept in a 
cage has all the actions of that bird, climbing by means of its hooked bill from the 
lower to the upper bars of its cage. From its mode of scrambling, and the beauty 
of its colours, it is called by some the German parrot. The female is said to begin 
to build early in January; it places its nest under the bare branches of the pine tree, 
fixing it with the resinous matter which exudes from the tree, and besmearing it on 
the outside with the same substance, so that melted snow or rain cannot penetrate it.” 

- » - 



BARTHOMLEY. 


155 



ditrUg. 


LETTER XIY. 


MY DEAR BOY. 

ALTERLEY is in the county of Stafford, and 
contains an agricultural population of about 340. 
In Erdeswick’s “ Survey of Staffordshire,” Har¬ 
wood’s edit., (p. 106,) we have this short notice 

of it:— 

“ Upon the borders of Cheshire stands Balterley, called Bawterley, a 
manor of John Lord Audley, 10 Hen. IV., and of which Sir Thomas Blount 
died seized 16 Henry VIII, and Sir John Blount, his son and heir, died 
seized of it 23 Eliz., having only one daughter, married to John Purslow. 5 
James I, William Lawton died seized of it, and John, his son and heir, suc¬ 
ceeded to it. Balterley is the property of George Toilet, Esq.” 1 

Here is neither church, nor chapel, nor school. 2 Balterley 
is separated from Barthomley by one of those brooks so com¬ 
mon in this locality, winding through narrow vales, the hanks 

1 Not so ; though the manor and & portion of the township are his. 

2 “A Charity-School,” says Lysons, “was founded at Balterley, about the year 
1730, by the Kelsall family of Hall-o’wood.” Relative to this charity I have been 
favoured, by Mr. Smith Child, M.P. for North Staffordshire, with an extract from 
the Will of William Kelsall; dated August 14th, 1719. “As for the piece or 
parcel of Land I lately purchased, commonly called or known by the name of 
Mosey Horneal, (Mossey Horne,) situate in Balterley aforesaid, I do hereby give, 
devise, grant, and bequeath the same, with all its appurtenances, unto my nephew 
Richard Kelsall, his heirs, &c., provided always he shall always pay yearly as a 
Rent-charge ye yearly sum of forty shillings to the Schoolmaster or schoolmistress 
now teaching, or who shall hereafter teach in ye free school which I have lately erect¬ 
ed at Balterley Green.” “Ye owners or occupiers of my nephew’s house at Gorsty 
Hill in Weston, and all the inhabitants of Balterley, being free to the same; pro¬ 
vided that ye inhabitants of Balterley do not impose any taxes upon ye said piece 
of Land.” He further mentions the person holding the school, Martha, wife of Zach¬ 
ary Bowler, and says she shall enjoy the school-house and rent-charge so long as 
she behaves well, and to the satisfaction of his nephew Richard Kelsall. 

What has become of building and endowment I cannot learn.—E. H. 





156 


BARTHOMLEY. 


of which, chequered with trees and undemood, sometimes rise 
abruptly, and give a holder character to the scene; and some¬ 
times gently and greenly undulate to the water’s edge. Balter- 
ley-brook springs from a hill in the adjoining parish of Audley, 
and although it seldom has any great depth of water, heavy 
rains will swell it into a torrent, and more than once it has 
swept away its bridges. Not long ago the dam-head of a mill- 
pool, fed by this brook, gave way, and on rushed a flood which 
inundated the valley through which the brook flows, and made a 
ruin of Balterley-green bridge. When the waters had subsided, 
a curious sight was there: large and small fish hung in the 
branches of the trees and bushes which had been submerged. 
Crowds of men and boys ran to the spot, and scrambled for the 
prey, amidst the boisterous merriment of encouraging standers- 

by- 

Our ramble shall begin at the aforementioned bridge. Pass¬ 
ing over it, we ascend a gentle hill, and come to a farm on the 
right, belonging to Francis Twemlow, Esq., of Betley Court, 
the much respected Chairman of the Staffordshire Quarter Ses¬ 
sions ; it is in the occupation of two brothers, Messrs. James 
and Joseph Hollins. Opposite their house, on the summit of 
the bank of another little brook, is an old black and white 
house, now inhabited by a labourer, but having marks about it 
which shew that it was formerly the residence of one of better 
means. Over the door—in its original state of thick solid oak, 
dotted with large nails, and having its antique handle, hinges, 
and iron key-hole, in excellent preservation—is the date 16 s v £f 1 
these are the initials, I doubt not, of Samuel and Mary Wood. 
The door opens into a fair sized house-place , so called here and 
in Cheshire, the ceiling of w 7 hich is finished with a wooden cor¬ 
nice ; and here, too, is the large open chimney-place, with seats 
on each side of it, characteristic of the Elizabethan style of do¬ 
mestic architecture. Next to this room is a small parlour, the 
chimney-piece of which is ornamented with branches of flowers, 
and gives also the date of the building, s< M> The ceiling is 


BARTHOMLEY. 


157 


divided into three compartments, each containing branches of 
flowers, the centre one varied by the insertion of a bird. Most 
probably the house was built by one of the ancient family of 
Wood, of Balterley, of which more hereafter. Further on, to 
the right, are some cottages, the property of Mr. Richard 
Bourne, farmer, of Barthomley. Here dwelt two men, both of 
whom, on account of their extraordinary infamy, shall receive a 
passing notice. 

Samuel Lightfoot was by trade a shoemaker, hut, having a 
land of universal genius, employed himself sometimes in put¬ 
ting together stone walls; or making nets for poachers, or bee¬ 
hives, or baskets; or, in short, any thing. He had no great re¬ 
spect for the rights of property. Fish, and a little game, now 
and then, for his landlord, from an adjoining manor; a goose, or 
a fowl or two, for his own pot, from a neighbouring farm-yard, 
were taken by him without any qualms of conscience. He was 
also a distinguished fortune-teller, and had certain cabalistic 
receipts for rheumatism, tooth-ache, &c. Many, from a distance, 
came to him for advice, from whom he managed to extract 
something more precious than a tooth; and this reminds me of 
a formidable fang, which, in his hands, performed wonders equal 
to those of any saintly relic. He told me that he found it 
in Madeley church-yard ; being at a funeral there, and stand¬ 
ing at the grave side, he perceived a large jaw-hone, the size of 
which, and the teeth in it, so astonished him, that, after the ser¬ 
vice, he took an opportunity of drawing a tooth from it, and, 
putting it in his pocket, brought it home ; and this self-same 
tooth became, in his hands, a wonder-working instrument. I 
doubted the truth of this discovery, and borrowed the tooth, 
and shewed it to a surgeon, who, with chinks of laughter, pro¬ 
nounced it to he a horse’s1 The fellow had a vast fund of 
shrewd, dry wit, and many anecdotes, which he told with so 
much fluency and humour, that, in spite of all attempts to the 
contrary, it was impossible to help laughing. He knew his 
power so well, that when I have called upon him with the most 


158 


BARTHOMLEY. 


serious intention, of rebuking liim for his wicked habits, he 
would anticipate my reproofs, and slyly start a casual subject 
in a way so comical and original, that I was obliged to beat a 
retreat for the preservation of my own gravity. His career of 
vice was such as is seldom, I trust, heard of in England. He 
married a remarkably well-mannered, nice looking woman, and 
receiving her widowed mother into his house, had children by 
them both. To complete his character, he was a drunkard. 
His neighbours shook their heads when they spoke of him, and 
foretold, with a shudder, that he would come to some awful end. 
Their forebodings came to pass: God’s sentence went forth 
against the man, when in a state of drunkenness, and he was 
cut down with blasphemous imprecations on his lips. 1 

Thomas Penlington was one of the most extraordinary men 
it has been my lot to meet. He was the son of a small farmer 
and farrier, residing at Inglesey-Brook, in the township of 
Weston. His talents were of the highest order, and if they had 
been properly brought out by instruction, would have placed 
him in no common roll of distinguished men. The village 
school, badly conducted in his early days, received him, and 
taught him to hanker after more learning than it could give. 
He greedily read every book, good, bad, or indifferent, that 
came in his way; and when he had arrived at man’s estate, the 
throbbings of conscious superiority beat violently within him, 
and compelled him to look around for means to gratify or 

1 I have one more anecdote to relate of him. Samuel, in consequence of spend¬ 
ing all he had, at the public-house, found himself, one day, without the pecuniary 
means of providing himself with a dinner; he went to his work as usual, and hit 
upon the following expedient to satisfy his appetite, which began to crave for food at 
twelve o’clock:—An old sow was in the farm-yard, and at her he rushed, feigning to 
be in a violent passion, and, with loud and dreadful imprecations, pursued her about 
the yard; the mistress of the house, hearing the noise, came to the door, and called 
to Samuel, “What’s the matter?” “What’s the matter!” re-echoed he, “Why, 
the old sow has eaten my dinner, and I’ll kill her if there’s never another pig in 
England.” “No, don’t Samuel,” said the good woman, “let her alone, and I will 
give you some dinner.” Samuel’s plan thus proved successful, and, without any 
further exhibition of anger, he sat down to a hearty and plentiful meal. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


159 


allay them. The Primitive Methodist chapel seemed, invit¬ 
ingly, to offer these. Soon, he had his ‘ convictions' 1 ; and, after 
much watching, groaning, and struggling, the required ne¬ 
cessary ‘ conversion.’ He was now fitted for the great work 
of ‘preaching ; and preach he did with so much energy and 
natural eloquence, that crowds collected from all quarters to 
hear him, and came away with his praise upon their lips: not 
that they understood all he said; he used too many dictionary 
words for them; and this habit grew so much upon him, that, 
at length, another preacher was appointed to stand near him, 
and interpret the hard sentences he uttered! 

For a time this excitement and applause were enough for 
him, but at length even this display became vapid; and he felt 
a kind of contempt, as he told me, for the poor besotted people 
who flocked around him, and especially for many of those men 
who presumed to lead and teach, and whom he knew to he no 
better than idle, selfish deceivers. His restless spirit sought 
for other means of satisfying itself. Having been behind the 
scenes, and witnessed the secret machinery of the chapel, he 
became disgusted with, what he was pleased to term, religion! 
and then forsook pulpit, and religion too; and for what ? you 
will surely be astounded when I tell you, for poaching ! Whe¬ 
ther the history of Bobin Hood had been one of the favourite 
books of his youth, and had filled him with a yearning for the 
lawless and poetic freedom that hero of the merry green-woods 
so charmingly enjoyed, I cannot tell; but this I know from him¬ 
self, that when he had resolved upon his ‘future,’ and poaching 
was to be his business, he set about preparing himself for it in 
the most methodical, clever, and business-like way. Having 
procured the necessary apparatus for his adopted work in guns, 
nets, snares, dogs, &c., he looked around for some companions, 
and selected four, over whom his master-mind kept a controul 
like that of the great Napoleon over his army. They submitted 
to his guidance and command in every thing. He planned the 
campaign of the night, and his superior skill directed the ma- 


160 


BARTHOMLEY. 


noeuvres. He himself was a sober man, but his four comrades 
were somewhat addicted to liquor; there was danger in this; 
over their cups they might blab of things which ought not to be 
known, and therefore he kept his intentions secret from them, 
and, appointing a place of meeting, did not tell them to what 
quarter they were to go until they were safely on their march 
thitherwards. His exploits and escapes were many. It was his 
boast, that though known to live by poaching, and narrowly 
watched, he was never convicted even of a simple trespass. 
The manors of Sir John Delves Broughton, strictly preserved 
and full of game, were his favourite resort. There was, in going 
to woods and lands guarded by a strong body of keepers, a manly 
enterprise, which gratified his daring, and the triumph of his 
skill in baffling their pursuit, afforded him a glorious enjoy¬ 
ment. Violence he never permitted to his little troop, and used 
to assert, that true poachers were sportsmen , not murderers; 
nor would he have anything in common with those marauding 
gangs, which go forth to battle with men as well as game; and 
steal, if they cannot kill. 

In course of time his night-work began to tell its tale: he 
went on prosperously for several years, until damp and cold 
brought upon him a rheumatic fever, and laid the strong man 
prostrate. He was at the point to die, as he thought, and, in 
his lonely cottage, sentences from that holy book, which he had 
cast aside, rose up, fresh and threatening, before him. He 
had no confidence in those religionists with whom he had once 
acted, and sent for the Hector of his parish. I found him 
greatly changed in person, and, as I hoped, in mind. He was 
struggling with emotions which wrung him to the heart’s core. 
I spoke to him kindly, and encouragingly as I ought, and the 
stricken penitent unburdened himself to me. I believe that 
the man, at this moment, was sincere; that he wished not 
to hide anything from me; not even his former inward work¬ 
ings of spiritual pride, neither his doubts and unbelief, nor his 
outward acts of lawlessness; and that he really wished to 


BARTHOMLEY. 


161 


amend liis life. Standing near to him was a guilty unmarried 
woman, who lived with him, and was now watching over him in 
his sickness. There was sin upon sin. I hesitated to ac¬ 
cept his strong expressions of repentance; he perceived this, 
and at once candidly avowed that I had fair reason to doubt 
their reality. Some days after this interview, I received the 
following letter from him :— 

“Balterley, April 22, 1841. 

“ Rev. Sir,—I humbly hope that you will not deem it abrupt of me in ad¬ 
dressing a few observations unto you, which, tho* proceeding from an humble 
source, yet, nevertheless, are entitled to your candid consideration, inasmuch 
as you are a Christian Minister; consequently, if your services can in any 
way promote the reformation of any character, however degraded, it is cer¬ 
tainly laudable and just so to do. The assertions made by me to you I see 
nor feel no reason to retract from,' and unto them I am fully determined to 
adhere. I must own that my conduct has been such as must of course 
arouse in your breast a feeling of distrust and jealousy, but as the old adage 
says, ‘ The proof of the pudding is in the eating thereof,” so say I, and the 
first opportunity which you name, however soon, I will then remove all 
doubtful apprehensions from your mind as to my future life, by delivering 
into your hands whatever dogs, nets, guns, or instruments I may be in the 
possession of, and will explain their uses and property’s unto you, if you re¬ 
quest it, together with any information respecting either the destruction or 
the preservation of game—with both of which I am as well acquainted as 
most men in existence. These determinations are not of a momentary exist¬ 
ence, but are deliberately made, and shall be faithfully kept any time you 
may appoint, any hour you will name. I am not excited to this movement 
by any fear, as I never committed no action but the consequence I was pre¬ 
pared to meet, as no man can prove anything which will in any way crimi¬ 
nate me, excepting poaching, and that I have kept no secret, and I conjec¬ 
ture that I am as expert at that practice as any individual; in conclusion, I 
most solemnly affirm that I will relinquish the practice, and will perform to 
you all I have promised to do, or any thing else you may require. 

“I am, Rev. Sir, 

“ Your very humble and obedt., 

“ Thomas Penlington. 

« p.S.—I should feel very grateful, Sir, unto you if you have ever an old 
top-coat that you could spare me, as I am afraid of catching cold by walk¬ 
ing out.” 

The apparent candour of this letter was rendered somewhat 
unsatisfactory, by the self-justifying spirit which peeps out to- 

W 


162 


BARTHOMLEY. 


wards the end of it, and the palliating view of the offence of 
poaching which he seems to have taken. Whether ‘ game he 
ferce natures , and so belonging to all who can catch it, or not, is 
not now the question: a law is broken by its destruction, with¬ 
out permission, and so long as the law continues, he is an of¬ 
fender, who breaks it, before God and man. I received his as¬ 
sertions at their worth, and sent him a top-coat, and fixed a day 
for the delivery of his stock-in-trade. Did he come ? yes. He 
punctually kept the appointment. You will remember that your 
eldest sister and yourself were playing in the pleasure-grounds, 
when you suddenly came upon him, and were alarmed; you ran 
off, and, breathless, entered my room, and exclaimed that a ter¬ 
rible looking man, almost black, was seated on a bag full of 
something, at the far end of the pleasure-grounds! I quickly 
guessed who he was, and went to him; and, sure enough, Tom 
Penlington was there, clad in my old great coat, with a hat on 
of an exceedingly broad brim, which slouched down upon his 
shoulders, affording, like a north-wester, a complete shelter 
from rain. His dark, long and uncombed hair hung about his 
weather-heaten, sickly face, making him a perfect portrait of a 
worn-out bandit: no wonder the children were frightened! He 
told me he could crawl with his bag no further, so threw it on 
the ground, and sat upon it, with the hope that some one would 
soon come that way and see him. The bag was conveyed to 
the house, followed by Penlington. He carried two guns, an 
air gun and a single-barrelled gun, which were so made that the 
barrels could be quickly taken from the stocks, and both, sepa¬ 
rately, put into his pocket. Two beautiful dogs were with him; 
one, a well-bred spaniel; the other, what he called ‘a snap-dog ,’ 
a diminutive but well-formed greyhound, with part of its tail 
taken off, in order to evade the greyhound tax. The contents 
of his bag were hauled out, and strewed over the floor: a large 
partridge net, made of silk, 40 yards long, several gate nets, 
many meuse and rabbit nets, an abundance of snares, and one 
net, which astonished me not a little, for catching deer! the 


BARTHOMLEY. 


163 


cord of wliich was of great strength, and the meshes large, and 
significantly marked with blood! I enquired, were you in the 
habit of ‘ killing deerV ‘Yes!’ ‘And where?’ ‘ Chiefly, though 
not altogether, in Doddington Park. Here I used to come at 
dusk, carrying my air-gun in my hand like a walking stick, and 
accompanied by one or two of my gang, and my snap-dog; if a 
deer was near the road, I fired at him there, and if I chanced 
to kill him, I leapt into the park, cut the animal into pieces, 
placed them in a bag, and carried them away. If the herd was 
grazing at a distance, I waited till it was dark, and then planted 
my net in one of their runs, and set my snap-dog at them, and 
drove them into it.” “ Did you often do this ?” “ 0 no, Sir; 

I was too wise for that: one buck in a year from a park was 
enough for me; if I had taken more, there would have been the 
devil’s own row, and danger!” This daring feat was, in his 
opinion, only poaching, and deer were placed by him in the 
same category with game. In several conversations after this, 
he told me that expert poachers will not go out on bright 
moonlight-nights, but in the darkest, and especially when it 
rains ; that many respectable men, so-called, are their constant 
customers throughout the year; that in the Potteries, among 
that class, he had a regular market for any quantity of game; 
that more game was taken, habitually, by farmers and farmer's 
servants, than by any regular gang of poachers; that with ser¬ 
vants he had habitual dealings, and, not unfrequently, with 
their masters; that the best way to preserve game was by bush¬ 
ing fields, and barring gates, and stopping meuses round the 
covers, and watching the farmers and their men. But I will 
hasten to an end with this narrative. I persuaded him to marry 
the woman with whom he lived, and, when he had rallied from 
his illness, procured him the situation of a gamekeeper, on the 
principle of ‘ set a thief to catch a thief:’ he did not long retain 
it, but took a house at Inglesey-Brook, and opened a school. 
As to poaching, his bad health precluded him from that. His 
school was apartial failure, and necessity drove him to thieving ; 


164 


BAETHOMLEY. 


he broke into the granary of a neighbour, and stole from it a 
quantity of wheat: a search-warrant was obtained, and the 
policeman entered through one door of his house as he went 
out through another ! He absconded from that moment. A war¬ 
rant, signed by me, for his apprehension, remains, to this day, 
unexecuted I 1 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XV. 


MY DEAR BOY. 

We will ramble on. We come to Balterley -green, a palpable 
misnomer! for no green is there: once there was; a little, open, 
verdant spot, such as, on a larger scale, we used to see, here and 
there, in merrie England. How often have I stopped to con¬ 
template the objects these little wastes were certain to present: 
the low thatched cottage, built by the daring hand of a poor pea¬ 
sant, on a patch of ground snatched from the borders of the 
green; the scanty garden, before whose broken gate, ragged and 
healthy children are rolling in the dust and sunshine, or playing 

i One of liis exploits I cannot refrain from telling you. He and his little gang 
had been at Cholmondeley, and, for some reason which he did not specify, left the 
place—bootless. Returning homewards, they came to Wistaston Hall, at about 
seven o’clock in the evening. It was in the month of February, and the moon was 
shining brightly; by her light he saw on the grassy bank of the brook, which runs 
through the grounds, some round, brown-looking objects: “tamed wild-ducks for a 
guinea,” says he, and crept towards them very quietly; [they were near the Hall,] and 
found them to be what he suspected; and, as he approached them, he could distinct¬ 
ly hear the servants moving about the dining-room ; Squire Hammond had a large 
hunting party on a visit at his house. Now is the time for me, he thought, they aie 
all too well engaged to care for the report of a gun; the chances are, that the loud 
talk and laughter, and the rattling of knives and forks, will prevent them from 
hearing it at all; he brought the gun to his shoulder, took a sweeping aim at the 
congregation of wild-fowl, killed five, and decamped without any molestation. 




BARTHOMLEY. 


165 


with mixed exclamations of mirth and anger; the geese, and pigs, 
and donkeys, the never-failing subordinates of the scene, re¬ 
minding us of that elegant couplet:— 

“ An ass on a common, a goose on a green, 

Are always two things, which are there to he seen*” 

But these things, in the many changes of the world, are pass¬ 
ing away. Balterley-green has lost, with others, its primitive 
character, but not its quiet, rustic prettiness. The innovating 
hand of man has parcelled it off into small fields and gardens, 
attached to the adjoining cottages, and “the green” yields more 
abundant comforts to the tenants, and, what it did not before, 
a rent to the landlords. We will now turn down a narrow lane 
on the left, and traverse some fields until we come to an old 
Elizabethan house: this is Hall-o’-Wood. Generally, our fore¬ 
fathers who could afford to build halls, placed them in low 
ground for the sake of shelter, and, oftentimes, for safety, sur¬ 
rounded them with a moat, the mists and damps from which 
never presented them with the idea of danger. This Hall is an 
exception from the rule: it is fixed on an eminence, which, 
taken from the sea’s level, is of considerable altitude, though 
not, perhaps, observable on account of its gradual and easy rise. 
From it you have a view of no little extent and beauty. The 
vale of Cheshire, bisected by the Peckforton hills, spreads a 
moiety of itself before you; there starts the rock of Beeston 
abruptly from the plain, isolated and grand, and crowned with 
its ruined castle. Beyond and far away are the mountains of 
North Wales, one of which, Moel Famma, rears its head on 
high, bearing on it the “Jubilee column,” erected in the 50th 
year of the reign of George III. On the left are the Shrop¬ 
shire Hills; on the right, Mow-cop, Cloud-end, and the hills of 
Derbyshire. What acres upon acres, miles on miles does the 
eye at one quick glance survey! and these peopled with hu¬ 
man beings, who, whilst we are gazing and admiring, are sub¬ 
jected to those joys and sorrows, which chequer man’s exist¬ 
ence, and teach him that he is but a stranger and pilgrim on 


1G6 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the earth. Before us the great drama of life is now enacting, 
though we see it not. In one house, domestic feuds; in ano¬ 
ther, harmony and peace. In this, perhaps, a new-born babe is 
nestling in its mother’s arms, who, with gentle languor, watches 
it in sweet sleep, and rejoices that a man is horn into the world! 
In that, a mourning mother bends over the body of her infant, 
and, like Rachel, will not he comforted, because it is not. Oh! 
who can enumerate the thousand things which happen, while 
we, in quiet contemplation, look down upon the majesty of the 
scene. We lose, I think, more than half the enjoyment of a 
prospect, if our minds rest only on hills and valleys, and rivers 
and trees, and clouds and light, and do not associate with them 
the destinies of man: his peaceful walk or his terrible struggle 
with events, which move him onwards in the career of life. 
There may he dreaminess in this, a visionary painting: hut it 
is of realities, which give a warmth of living action to the cold 
colours of a landscape, like the figures which painters scatter, 
here and there, in their noble specimens of art, to increase 
their life, and stamp them with a tone of truth. 

Hall-o’-Wood is a fine specimen of the timbered houses which 
formerly prevailed in this part of England, many of which yet 
remain. Its name is not derived from its chief material, hut 
from its builder. Lysons says, in his History of Cheshire, p. 
501, “The Hall at this place is said to have been built by 
Thomas Wood, Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas.” 

Later research has, however, thrown a doubt on this. The 
Rev. Mr. Hadfield was of opinion that it was erected by George 
Wood, Judge of Chester, A.D. 1557, with which other anti¬ 
quarians concur. Mr. Hadfield spoke to me so positively on 
the point, that, knowing his intimate acquaintance with Staf¬ 
fordshire history, I am inclined to his opinion, that Hall-o’- 
Wood teas built by George Wood. He possessed the manor of 
Balterley, having purchased it, probably, of the Blounts. He 
died in 1558. In 1560, William Lawton, of Lawton, Esq., in 
the county of Chester, married the daughter and heiress of 


BARTHOMLEY. 


167 


George Wood, of Balterley. She died in 1604. 1 The manor of 

1 Lysons states “ The Woods of Hall-o’wood, in Balterley, who were settled there 
in the reign of Edward I, are supposed to have become extinct about the beginning 
of the 17th century.” This supposition is not correct. The family of Wood of 
Balterley, is now represented by two branches : Archdeacon Wood of Middlewich, 
Cheshire, and Edward Wood, Esq., of Port-Hill, near Newcastle, in the county of 
Stafford; to the latter gentleman I am indebted for the subjoined pedigree, which at 
once proves his descent, and the great antiquity and respectability of the family. 

Pedigree of Edward Wood, of Port Hill, Staffordshire. 


John Wood, of Balterley, living A.D. 1344, 18 Edward 3rd., 
1399 or 1400 Henry 4th. == 


John Wood, of Balterley, 1372, 46 Edward 3rd, 
5th Edward 4th, 1466. == 


William WooD,=Cicely, survived her husband 8th Edward 4th. 


Henry Wood, 1461, 39 Henry 6th.: 


Humfrey Wood, =Joan, daughter of John Brook, of Cannock, 10th Henry 7th. 


Ralph WooD,=Ellen, daughter of Ward, of Tillington. 


Humfrey Wood, of Balterley, =Eliza, daughter of Thomas Rane. 


Dr. Thomas Wood, Bishop of 
Lichfield and Coventry, 

from 1671 to 1692,=Frances, daughter of John Dodd, Chomley, Cheshire. 


Henry Wood, of Balterley and Cannock, == Anne, daughter of Richard Cotton. 


Humfrey, George, Ralph Wood, Col. in King James’ Army, was killed at 

the Battle of Boyne, 1690.== 

Ralph Wood died on the 28th day of March, 1753, in the 77th year of his age, 
and was buried at Cheddleton, near Leek, Staffordshire. = 


Aaron, 2nd son of Ralph Wood, was horn April 14th, 1717.= 


Enoch Wood, youngest son of Aaron Wood, was horn 31st January, 1759, died 
17th of August, 1840, aged 82, was buried at Burslem.= 


Edward Wood, of Port-Hill, Staffordshire, 3rd son of Enoch and Anne Wood, 
was born 9th April, 1796.= 


Edward Herbert Wood, born at Port-Hill, in the parish of Wolstanton, 
Staffordshire, 29th October, 1847. 
















168 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Balterley continued in the Lawton family until A.D. 1803, 
when it was sold by Charles Bourne Lawton, Esq., to George 
Toilet, Esq., of Betley Hall. The Hall-o’-Wood estate, Lysons 
says, passed to one of the family of Kelsall by marriage. In a 
manuscript book, written in 1733, by a Mr. Parrot, of Bignal- 
end, in Audley, 1 it is stated, “ Richard Kelsall, of Halmerend 
had two sons, William and Richard. He gave William Hall-o’- 
Wood estate, and Halmer-end he gave to his son Richard, who 
married, and had three sons—Richard, William, and John. 
William, the uncle, gave to Richard, his nephew, the Hall-o’- 
Wood estate, and his son now enjoys it,” (i. e. 1733). It 
appears from this, that Hall-o’-Wood had been in the Kelsall 
family from the beginning of the 17th century, and I doubt 
much whether Lysons’ statement, of its passing to it by mar¬ 
riage, is correct. In a pedigree of the family, taken from the 
Audley registers and the Parrot manuscript, I do not find that 
any Kelsall married a Wood: probably, the estate was pur¬ 
chased by Richard Kelsall, who, in 1628, married Dorothie 
Boothe, and, as Parrot says, gave it to his son William, who 
left it to his nephew Richard. 

The Kelsall family is of great antiquity. It was originally of 
Kelsall, in the parish of Tarvin, Cheshire, from which it has 
derived its name :— 

2 Edw. II. Thos- de Buckleigh obtained from Adam de Kelsall 
and Eva his wife 6 messuages and 4 acres of land in Kelsall.” 
(It is remarkable that this Adam was lucky enough to find an 
Eve for his helpmeet.) “ Thos de Kelsall was in the list of 
Cheshire men excepted in the general act of pardon by Henry 
IV, in the 1 st year of his reign, for adhering to Rich. II. 

1335. Will m - Kelsall was Sheriff of Chester. 

1350. Stephen de Kelsall was Mayor of Chester. 

The elder branch became extinct at an early period. A 
younger branch was of Heathside, and Bradshaw Hall, near 

1 Now in the possession of William Salt, Esq., 29, Lombard-street, London, a 
great collector of matters relating to the History and Antiquities of Staffordshire. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


169 


Ckeadle, Cheshire; tkey bougkt Bradskaw A.D. 1550. James 
Kelsall, of tkis family, settled in Audley, in tke county of Staf¬ 
ford, and, in 1563, married Jokanna Skorte, and is said to kave 
died A.D. 1583, at tke extraordinary age of 107 years, kaving a 
numerous family. His eldest son, William, born 1565, married, 
1592, Anne, daughter of Andrew Beech, (clericus, Audley.) In 
1644 this William Kelsall was fined 30s. by tke Parliamentary 
committee, and, in 1646, he with his son John, liis curate, were 
sequestered. John returned in 1660, and continued the regis¬ 
ters. Richard, the youngest son, born 1606, married, on the 
10th January 1628, Dorothie Boothe; and, I believe, as I have 
already stated, purchased Hall-o’-Wood. Their eldest daughter, 
Anne, born 1637, married, 1660, Smith Child, of Boyles Hall, 
Audley, an ancestor of the present Smith Child, Esq., of Row- 
nall Hall, near Leek, and M.P. for the Northern Division of 
the county of Stafford. William Kelsall, their eldest son, was 
bom 1641. To him his father gave Hall-o’-Wood. He left the 
estate to Richard, the eldest son of his younger and only bro¬ 
ther, Richard, whose son, as we learn from Parrott, enjoyed it 
in 1733. From that date to 1802 it was possessed by the Kel- 
salls, when the family became extinct in William Kelsall. 1 The 
Hall-o’-Wood estate became, by inheritance, the property of the 
Tait family, from whom Mr. Samuel Peake, of Silverdale, pur¬ 
chased it; at whose death, his son, Mr. Walter Peake, sold it to 
Mr. Goodfellow, of Tunstall, Staffordshire. (This occurred since 
I ceased to be Rector of Barthomley; I am glad to be enabled 
to say, that the present proprietor has put the house and 
grounds into excellent order.) 

When I was a boy, Mrs. Kelsall, the widow of the last Kel¬ 
sall, lived at the Old Hall, which, with its grounds, bore the 
semblance of belonging to one who had the means to keep them 
up. The approaches to the house were always clean and neat; 
gigantic oaks spread their branches far and wide; grass plots 
were nicely mown; the old walled gardens were in fruitful or- 

1 See^Barthomley Monuments. 


X 


170 


BARTHOMLEY. 


der; and fishponds, so important to the kitchen before our day» 
of locomotive wonder, were in repair, and well-tenanted with 
the finny tribes. But a cruel change has come over all since her 
departure: the carriage-drives have lost their vestige; the fine old 
trees are levelled to the ground; the house and gardens are in a 
state of dilapidation, exhibiting the mournful consequences of in¬ 
temperance and dissipation ! But let me not forget to speak of 
Mrs. Kelsall. Forget her, perhaps, I never shall. They who endear 
themselves to the child, live ever after in the memory of the man . 

She was the type of a class almost extinct—the tidy, sensible 
housewife of a British yeoman; and the very beau-ideal of re¬ 
spectability and cleanliness. I see her seated in her arm-chair; 
her black silk bonnet, trimmed with lace and broad ribbon, just 
permitting the border of a clean white cap to peep from under 
it; her snow-white muslin neckerchief crossed in ample folds 
upon her bosom; its ends disappearing beneath a black silk 
gown; for black she always wore, it was the symbol, not so 
much of grief, as of her unfading attachment to her departed 
friend and husband. She was, what her bible taught her to be, 
‘a keeper at home;’ there she ‘looked well to the ways of her 
household; there she dispensed her bounties, and the poor rose 
up and called her blessed! Once a year, indeed, she left her 
home, but it was for health. A fortnight, or at most three 
weeks, she would tarry at the sea-side, or Buxton, and bring 
back trophies of her travels, in lank pieces of sea-weed, or orna¬ 
ments of spar. No one was more regular and punctual at her 
church than she. When the Sabbath came, then came the 
weekly service of an antique chariot, never used but on this, or 
some pressing occasion; drawn by two fat, sleek horses, ‘for 
the righteous are merciful to their beasts,’ and driven by a 
round, fat postilion, telling of beef and beer, it rolled along. 
Hanging behind, as footmen do in London, was a tall, thin, 
bony man, to whom we gave the nickname of ‘long John;’ and 
inside, with the old lady, was her niece, or Betty Silvester, her 
cook and housekeeper, for she was kind to her dependants, and 


BARTHOMLEY. 


171 


a happy unpresuming familiarity existed between her and them. 
Stately was her approach to church! the roads were bad and 
heavy; the horses short of wind; a hollow, drum-like sound 
accompanied the movement of the vehicle, unlike the noiseless 
luxury of chariots now. Her’s was a progress, heralded by its 
own sounds, and dignified by the slowness of its pace. 

At Hall-o’-Wood we paid an annual summer visit. Oh! the 
halcyon 1 days of childhood! How we longed for the certain in¬ 
vitation, and counted the laggard hours till we started on our 
trip of happiness! and a comical start it was! About eleven 
o’clock of a bright summer’s morning might be seen, issuing 
from the Rectory gates, a heavy broad-wheeled waggon, the 
name of Basford legibly painted thereon. Two horses—driven 
by Thomas Owen—of a better description than commonly used 
in such-like carriages, are affixed to it, and move prancingly 
along, and, with jumps and starts, shew that they are unaccus¬ 
tomed to the weight behind them. At the front of this waggon 
are two chairs, on one of which is seated a tall, portly gentle¬ 
man ; on the other, his wife. In the body of it are boards, or 
benches, for a goodly array of jocund children. The party 
consists of the Rector, his wife, and their little ones, sallying 
forth to Mrs. Kelsall’s, and whom nothing less than a roomy 
waggon can now contain, for, year by year, the number is in¬ 
creased, and all are there but the sleeping baby in its cradle. 
Pleasure beams on every face: and each jolt of the waggon 
elicits a remark of fun and laughter, except when one from a 
deep-worn rut drew from the gentle sex a scream, soon hushed, 
or mercilessly quizzed by the boys. 

1 Halcyon is a word, whose derivation you are likely to he unacquainted with. It 
is a name of the king-fisher—(from ev a\i kvciv, to hatch in the sea.) The hack 
and the coverts of the tail of this bird are of such a splendid azure, that they gave 
rise to the term of ‘halcyon blue.’ The ancients, struck with the affectionate man¬ 
ners and gorgeous colours of king-fishers, made them the subject of a pretty fable. 
They imagined them to he Ceyx and Halcyone, a king and queen, who, having 
perished—the king by shipwreck, and the queen for grief at his loss—were changed 
by the Gods, into king-fishers. Hence the term ‘halcyon days’ to express clear 
and serene weather. 


172 


BARTHOMLEY. 


We arrive at Hall-o’-Wood. ‘Long John’ lifts child after 
child from the waggon, Betty Silvester receives us; yes! and 
presumes to kiss us; A chair is brought for the Lector and 
our mother, who descend by its means with becoming care and 
gravity. Into the house we go, and are welcomed by our mild 
and smiling hostess and her niece. I shall not describe the din¬ 
ner: it was such a one as a well-stocked farm, with sundry extra¬ 
neous aids, can supply, and appreciated and valued more than all 
other feasts besides. After dinner, ‘ Long John’ devotes himself 
to our service. With him we visited the gardens, and picked the 
fruit; the stables, and admired the horses; the farm-yard, and 
fed the fowls and pigeons. We went, too, with him to the head 
of a good-sized pool, and threw in crumbs of bread, and, with 
shouts of joy, watched the fishes darting for their food; and, as 
in this world of solid earth, the large and strong oppressing the 
small and weak. Fare thee, fare thee well! thou scene of plea- 
antness! thou art gone in thy reality for ever! Yet thou lin- 
gerest like a dream about my mind, filling it with sweet visions 
of my childhood—fresh, innocent, and bright; and helping to 
dissipate the gloom which anon will hang upon the rugged, 
stern pursuits, the care-worn path of manhood! 

Passing over the Newcastle and Nantwich turnpike roads, 
and crossing a few fields, we come to a large brick, heavy-look¬ 
ing farm-house—Balterley Hall, now the residence of Mr. 
Joseph Glover. This was formerly the residence and property 
of the family of Thickens, or Tliicknesse, one of whom, Bobert 
de Thicnes, (or Thykenes,) in the reign of king Edward the 
First, became second husband of Amicia, widow of Thomas de 
Crue, eldest son and heir of Sir Thomas de Crue, of Crewe, 
whom she likewise survived. I shall subjoin a short pedigree 1 
of the Tliicknesse family, some members of which being a little 

1 The late Rev. Mr. Hadfield, fortnerly Perpetual Curate of Alsager, in the pa¬ 
rish of Barthomley, collected a most valuable mass of information relating to Staf¬ 
fordshire, with the intent of publishing a history of that county, in the style of Or- 
merod’s History of Cheshire. Some beautifully illuminated pedigrees of chief fami¬ 
lies of the county, drawn by himself, I have seen, and I cannot refrain from express- 


BARTHOMLEY 


173 


ing my regret, that, since his death, his papers, if existing, are not placed in the 
hands of some one who will undertake to carry out his plan. The subjoined pedi¬ 
grees of the Audleys, Yerdons, Blounts, and Thickens, he kindly sent to me some 
years ago; lamenting, that, after immense labour and research, he could not arrive 
at any more satisfactory results: 


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174 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Thomas Thickens,— 


Richard Thickens, of Balterley, in Co. Staff.—. 


Henry Thickens,— 

_I 


James Thickens_ 


Laurence Thickens,—.daur. of— Rugeley. 


Ralph Thicknesse, of_Elizabeth, da: of . Robert Thicknesse— 

Balterley. Swettenham, of Somerford, of Beaumaris, 

in Co: Cestr. 


Ralph Thicknesse, of— Isabell, da: of Charles Maynwaring, Rowland Thicknesse, 


Balterley, ob. 1545. 


of Croxton, in Co. Cestr. 


of Beaumaris. 


Ralph Thicknesse,—Anne Barbor, of Robert, 2 son. Catherine, 1 Anne, 3. 


of Balterley. 


Stafford Green. Thomas, 3 son. Ellen, 2. Elizabeth, 4. 


Ralph Thicknesse, of—Katherine Wolferstan, George, 2 son. 

Balterley, ob. 1632. of Statfold. 


Ursula. 


Ralph Thicknesse, of_Margaret 
Balterley. ob. 1641. Middlemore. 
(born when his father 
was 70 years old.) 


Frances. 


Ralph Thicknesse, of—Bridget, da: of S. r . John 
Balterley, ob. 1686. Egerton, Bar 1 * 


Anne. Catherine, 
m. Ralph 
Wood of 
Balterley. 


From this marraige descends 
the Rev. Isaac Wood, Arch¬ 
deacon of Chester, 1847. 


* Ralph Thicknesse, of—Eliz: Stockton, of Rev. John Thicknesse,—Joyce, niece of 


Balterley. 

(a Nonjuror.) 


Kiddington. 


Rector of Farthingoe, 
Co. Northampton. 


Judge Blen- 
cowe. 


Ralph Thicknesse,_ Alethea Bostock, 


of Balterley, ob. 
1739. 


of Shrewsbury. 


2 d wife. *| *3 rd wife. 

Lady —Philip Thicknesse,—Anne Ford: 


Elizab 

Touchet. 


Governor of Lan- 
guard Fort, ob. 
1792. Author of 
a Bath Guide. 


Authoress of 
the lives of 
celebrated 
French Ladies 


, Rt. Hon. George Thicknesse, 

Balph Thicknesse,—Dorothy Bostock, Lord Audley: in the right of 
sold Balterley, and I of London. his mother, took the name of 

diedatWigan, 1790.) Tuchet in addition to Thick- 

.a. nesse, in 1783, by Royal sign 

manual. 































BARTHOMLEY. 


175 


connected with our history. Ralph Thicknesse, of Balterley, 
oh. 1686, married Bridget, 1 daughter of Sir John Egerton, of 
Wrinehill, in Staffordshire, third Baronet, who was descended 
from the famous Sir John de Hawkstone, Knt., one of Lord 
Audley’s Esquires at the battle of Poitiers. John, (of Brazen- 
nose college, Oxford, L.L.B.) second son of the said Ralph 
Thicknesse, was presented, in 1694, by his uncle, Sir John 
Egerton, the then patron, to the Rectory of Farthinghoe, in the 
deanry of Brackley, county of Northampton, holding therewith, 
from 1715, the perpetual curacy of Radstone, in the same coun¬ 
ty. He married Joyce Blencowe, niece of Judge Blencowe, by 
whom he had eight sons and two daughters. Dr. Richard 
Grey, who was chaplain and secretary to Dr. Crewe, Bishop 
of Durham, of both of whom I shall have something to say 
hereafter, married Joyce, the rector’s youngest daughter An 
extended notice of four of the sons, Thomas, Ralph, George, 
and Philip, who “ became eminent in their respective stations,” 
will be found in “ Nichols’s Literary Anecdotes.” George, de¬ 
scribed as amiable, was Head-master of St. Paul’s School, for 
more than a quarter of a century. Philip Thicknesse, Esquire, 
the “ seventh son, without a daughter between,” was born on 
the 10th of August, 1719. He was a lively writer and eccen¬ 
tric character. After the death of his father (1725,) he was 
placed at Aynho school, and, subsequently, through the influ¬ 
ence of Dr. Robert Friend, was admitted a gratis scholar at 
Westminster. He was intended for the medical, but early de¬ 
serted to the military profession, and was engaged in active ser¬ 
vice from 1735 to 1746. In 1742 he married Maria, the only 
daughter of Mr. John Lanove, of Southampton; who dying 
early in 1749, he married, secondly, 10th November in the same 
year, Elizabeth, daughter of James, earl of Castlehaven and ba¬ 
ron Audley, which barony, on the death of her brother in 1777, 
descended to her eldest son, George Thicknesse, who, thereup- 

1 A daughter of theirs married Charles Fletcher, of Whitchurch, co. Salop, Es¬ 
quire; and their daughter, Grissel, married Thomas Wicksted, of Nantwich, gent. 2 

2 Ormerod’s Cheshire, vol. iii, p. 233. 


176 


BARTH OMLE Y. 


on, assumed the name of Touchet, being 26th baron Audley, of 
Heleigh Castle. Her ladyship died in March, 1792, and in 
September following he selected for his third wife, Anne, 
daughter of Thomas Ford, Esquire, a lady of considerable 
literary talent, who survived till 18—, when she died at the very 
advanced age of ninety years. He had purchased in 1753, the 
lieutenant-governorship of Languard Fort, in Essex, which he 
obtained permission to resign on advantageous terms in 1766, 
when he retired into France, where he resided from May to 
October, and at the close of the year appeared his “ Observa¬ 
tions on the customs and manners of the French nation,” &c., 
which reached a third edition. From this period his residence 
became as desultory as his habits; during the remainder of his 
life he was in almost constant transition between the continent 
and his native country, and his foreign excursions produced, in 
succession, “A year’s journey through France and Spain,” 
1777, 2 vols., 8vo., which reached a third edition in 1789. And 
“A year’s journey through the Pays Bas, in Austrian Nether¬ 
lands,” 1784, 8vo.; a second edition of which appeared in 
1786, with considerable additions, and the routes through Ger¬ 
many, Holland, and Switzerland. In 1788 he published two 
volumes of “ Memoirs and Anecdotes of Philip Thicknesse, late 
governor of Languard Fort, and unfortunately father to George 
Touchet baron Audley,” which were followed by a third volume 
in 1791. Besides the works already enumerated, he wrote va¬ 
rious fugitive letters and pamphlets, principally on temporary 
or personal subjects. He again visited France in 1792, with 
the intention of passing through that country to Italy, where he 
proposed to stay two or three years. On the 18th of November 
he was at Boulogne in perfect health and remarkably good spi¬ 
rits; but on the following day had not proceeded a single stage 
on the way to Paris, before he complained to his wife, who was 
with him in the carriage, of a sudden pain in his stomach, and 
almost before she could express her concern, added, “I have a 
pain in my head too,” when he instantly expired. He was a 


BARTHOMLEY. 


177 


man of probity and honour, and his heart and purse were al¬ 
ways open to the unfortunate but his uncontrollable irritation 
of temper, and restlessness of disposition, continually brought 
him into unpleasant collisions with his family and connections. 
To the third volume of his memoirs is prefixed a portrait of Mr. 

1 Philip Thicknesse was acquainted with the unhappy Rev. Dr. Dodd, and felt a 
deep concern at his sad fate, being executed for forgery; his letter to Mr. Thick¬ 
nesse, a day or two before his death, in reply, evidently, to some offered interposition 
in his behalf, I will append, together with Mr. Thicknesse’s remarks: 

To Philip Thicknesse, Esq. 

“Dear Sir,—I am just at present not very well, and incapable of judging. I will 
communicate your kind paper to my friends. My brother will he at Mrs. Porter’s 
this evening. Many thanks for your attention. I rather think it would do harm, 
and be thought a mob. Yours, &c. 

“W. Dodd.” 

Remarks by Mr. Thicknesse. 

“When I consider the real character of this man, I suspect that though mankind 
have complimented themselves with the idea of being rational creatures, I am apt to 
doubt it. That we are the most artful and cunning of all created beings, is true; 
but does that prove that either Dodd, me, or you, are rational ? Dodd was one of 
the best tempered men on earth; generous, charitable, and happy to serve or assist 
every man who required his time, his purse, or his advice. He had great suscepti¬ 
bility, and went through what was worse than a thousand deaths during his long 
confinement. Visiting him one morning, I asked him how he had slept? ‘I have 
slept none to-night,'' said he, ‘they have been all night unrivetting and knocking off 
the chains of the felons who suffered to day, and every blow they gave was to me as 
an electric shock!’ The last time I saw him (going unfortunately when Mrs. Dodd 
was taking her last farewell of him), I found them with their hands closed in each 
others, lost and insensible to every object which surrounded them, with such dis¬ 
tress of mind painted on their countenances, that I should have thought it an act of 
charity had some benevolent hand struck them instantly dead. It was a tragedy 
scene of such horror, that the tears now roll down my cheeks while I am relating it, 
as they did while I was the sad spectator of a scene undescribable, and horribly affect¬ 
ing. It was the minute in my whole life in which I coveted power. I quitted the 
room, but the scene can never be effaced from my memory. I am persuaded, that 
though both their eyes were wide open, and their hearts fluttering with inconceiva¬ 
ble agitations, they neither of them had the power of sight, speech, or motion! That 
was the minute to have been a King! 

“After Dodd’s death, I heard of some transactions of his, which lessened, though 
not removed, my concern for his fate. 

“When I arrived in England from France, I asked the Custom-house Officers 
for news. They told me a Doctor of Divinity was in Newgate for forgery; and 
I instantly (I know not why) said in my mind, Then it is Dr. Dodd. 

“P. Thicknesse.” 


Y 


178 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Thicknesse, aged 70; and the inimitable James Gillray intro¬ 
duced his portrait in a large caricature, containing allusions to 
his life and publications, and inscribed “Lieut.-Governor Gall- 
Stone, inspired by Alecto; or, the birth of Minerva.” 1 

Ralph Thicknesse, M.D., who died at Wigan, in the county 
of Lancaster, 1790, sold the Hall and other estates in Balterley, 
to John Crewe, Esq., of Bolesworth Castle, Cheshire, from whom 
Thomas Twemlow, Esq., of Hill Top, Sandbacli, in the county 
of Chester, bought them, somewhat more than half a century 
ago, whose youngest son, Francis Twemlow, Esq., of Betley 
Court, in the county of Stafford, now possesses them. 

This gentleman, as I have before told you, is the Chairman 
of the Staffordshire Quarter Sessions. Highly respected as a 
country gentleman, he has obtained, in his public capacity, the 
just approbation of the whole county. In the month of May of 
last year the following eulogium and announcement appeared in 
the Staffordshire Advertiser :— 

"TESTIMONIAL TO THE CHAIRMAN OF THE STAFFORDSHIRE QUARTER SESSIONS. 

“Francis Twemlow, Esq, has discharged the duties of Chairman of the 
Quarter Sessions of this county for nearly twenty years, and it is universally 
admitted that he has laid the county under a deep debt of obligation by his 
services, which have not only been gratuitous, hut have been equal to any 
which the highest remuneration could have secured from the ablest men of 
the profession. With unwearied industry and application, sound judgment, 
and nice discrimination, superadded to the paramount requisite of great legal 
knowledge, Mr. Twemlow has possessed unusual qualifications for the im¬ 
portant and onerous office which he has filled; and he has presided over the 
business meetings of the magistracy, and on the judicial bench, in such a 
manner, that he has always enjoyed the confidence of his magisterial bre¬ 
thren, of the bar, and of the public. We are not surprised, therefore, to find 
that “ a strong desire has been expressed by several magistrates and other 
gentlemen connected with public business in the county, that an opportunity 
should be afforded them of publicly testifying their appreciation of the va¬ 
lue of the services, rendered to the county by Mr. Twemlow, during the long 
period he has occupied the chair at Quarter Sessions;” and, with that view, 
that a subscription has already been commenced. Although but little publici¬ 
ty has been given to the intention, a handsome amount has been contributed 
by the magistrates of the county, the members of the Quarter Sessions bar, 

1 Baker’s History of Northamptonshire. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


179 


and others, and numbers throughout the county, we are assured, will be hap- 
py to add their names to a tribute so well deserved. The subscription list is 
headed with the name of the late gallant and venerated Lord Lieutenant, 
the Marquis of Anglesey, with the sum of ^25, and with that of the newly 
appointed Lord Lieutenant (Lord Hatherton,) for L20. Messrs, Stevenson, 
Salt, and Webb, Stafford, have kindly consented to receive subscriptions.” 

Shortly after this announcement, another appeared as follows: 

“ The Chairman of the Staffordshire Quarter Sessions. —The 
presentation of the Testimonial to Francis Twemlow, Esq., Chairman of 
the Quarter Sessions for this county, will be made on Monday, the 1st of 
January—the day on which the next Sessions commence. The testimonial 
consists of a very handsome service of plate of the value of .£1,200. The 
gift, though costly, very inadequately represents the obligations of the county 
to the worthy Chairman, for the admirable manner in which he has dis¬ 
charged the laborious and onerous duties of the important office he has held 
for so many years. The plate will be most appropriately presented, in the 
name of the subscribers, by the Lord Lieutenant of the county, the Eight 
Hon. Lord Hatherton, the head of the County Magistracy, and to his lord- 
ship may safely be confided the task of giving truthful and eloquent ex¬ 
pression to the sentiments of the subscribers, in offering this tribute of 
respect and gratitude to the excellent Chairman of the Staffordshire Quarter 
Sessions. The presentation will be made at twelve o’clock, and afterwards 
the subscribers will take luncheon together at the Judges’ House.” 

On the 1st of January, 1855, the presentation was made in 
circumstances unusually gratifying. The Staffordshire Adver¬ 
tiser shall describe the proceedings of the large county meeting 
of that day:— 

“PRESENTATION OF A TESTIMONIAL TO F. TWEMLOW, ESQ., 
“CHAIRMAN OF THE STAFFORDSHIRE QUARTER SESSIONS. 

“ The Grand Jury Eoom of the Shire Hall, Stafford, was, on Monday last, 
the scene of a most gratifying event, on the occasion of a testimonial being 
presented to Francis Twemlow, Esq., Chairman of the Quarter Sessions for 
this county. Mr. Twemlow having, for the long period of nearly twenty 
years, discharged the duties of his important office with unvarying zeal, and 
an ability scarcely to be excelled; it was thought by many, who had been the 
admiring witnesses of his conduct, that the time had at length anived when 
the county should, in some way, mark the sense which was universally enter¬ 
tained of his services. Accordingly, a subscription was entered into with the 
view of providing a testimonial, and no sooner was the proposition made 
known, than a spontaneous feeling prompted all classes to unite in marking, 
in a substantial manner, their gratitude for the inestimable labours of the 
respected chairman. The nobility, magistrates, gentry, clergy, iron-masters, 


180 


BARTHOMLEY. 


merchants, and others of the principal residents in the county, together with 
members of the Oxford Circuit, with a remarkable spontaneity and concur¬ 
rence of sentiment, tendered their subscriptions and ultimately a handsome 
sum, amounting to upwards of ^£1300, was placed at the disposal of the 
Testimonial Committee. It having been agreed that the testimonial should 
consist of a service of plate, Messrs. Makepeace and Walford, of Serle-street, 
Lincoln’s-Inti, and Messrs. Smith and Nicholson, of Lincoln’s-Inn, were 
entrusted with the task of carrying out, in this respect, the intentions of the 
committee; and, jointly, these eminent firms provided a silver service, richly 
ornamented, yet of a most useful description. The service, which was at¬ 
tractively laid out on the table in the Grand Jury Hoorn, weighs upwards of 
2,000 oz., and consists in the whole of 39 pieces. The centre piece, a tripod 
candelabrum for six lights, with figures representing the seasons, surmounted 
by a basket for flowers, is a most beautiful piece of workmanship; on its 
base is engraved the following inscription :— 

The Service of Plate, 

Of which this centre-piece forms a part, 

Was, on the first day of January, 1855, 

Presented to 

Francis Twemlow, of Betley Court, Esquire, 

By a numerous Body of the Nobility, 

Magistrates, Gentry, Clergy, Members of the Bar, 

Solicitors, Ironmasters, Merchants, 

Bankers, Manufacturers, and Others, 

Connected with the County of Stafford, 

In grateful acknowledgment of the 
Bemarkable ability and disinterested zeal 
With which for a period of nineteen years 
He has discharged the laborious duties of 
Chairman of Quarter Sessions 
For the County of Stafford. 

On each side of the centre-piece were two stands for flowers or fruit, with 
chased figures representing Music and Lambs. A magnificent and richly- 
chased figure border salver was also greatly admired for its beauty of design 
and skilful workmanship. The other pieces were an oval soup tureen and 
cover, with shaped gadroon edge and chased handles and feet, and stand; 
venison dish; table dish and pierced magazine for the same; five other table 
dishes of various sizes; four circular entree dishes, with raised covers and 
chased handles; four entre mets dishes; four oval sauce boats; four oval table 
dish covers; four circular rechauds for entree dishes; oval rechaud for veni¬ 
son dish; and a lining for soup tureen. Accompanying the above is a beauti¬ 
fully ornamented ebony casket, with Malachite and richly chased classical 
subjects, to contain a list of the subscribers, engrossed on vellum. The me¬ 
dallions ornamenting this little gem were most tastefully executed. Those on 


BARTHOMLEY. 


181 


the cover represented Jupiter carrying off Europa, Cupid sailing upon his 
quiver; his arrow forming the mast, and his how the oar; Cupid listening to 
the music of a Fawn; Cupid riding on a dolphin; and Cupid playing on his 
pipes. The medallion in front represented Ceesar presenting the Crown of 
Egypt to Cleopatra—the warrior is so enamoured that he does not see that 
the God of Love has taken away his sword, and that Fawns are bearing 
off his shield. On a medallion at the hack of the casket, Medora and 
Cassandra are represented carving their names on a tree; while gentle shep¬ 
herdesses occupy each end of the casket, and noble warriors guard the 
comers. The principal centre-piece was furnished by Messrs. Smith and 
Nicholson ; and the remainder by Messrs. Makepeace and Walford. 

The interesting ceremony of presenting the Testimonial was appointed to 
take place at twelve o’clock on Monday, and at that hour the Grand Jury 
Room was crowded by a highly respectable and influential company. The 
duty of making the presentation had been very properly deputed to Lord 
Hatherton, the Lord Lieutenant of the County. Mr. Twemlow, being, we 
regret to say, prevented attending in consequence of the death of a near re¬ 
lative, his son, Mr. T. F. Twemlow, represented him on the occasion. Among 
those present we noticed the Right Hon. the Lord Lieutenant of the County 
(Lord Hatherton), the High Sheriff (John Davenport, Esq.,) the Right Rev. 
the Lord Bishop of Lichfield, Earl Talbot, the Earl of Dartmouth, Viscount 
St. Vincent, the Hon. A. Wrottesley, C. B. Adderley, Esq., M.P., Smith 
Child, Esq., M.P., Charles Forster, Esq, M.P., Lieut. Col. Vernon, Edwd. 
Buller, Esq, John Bott, Esq., Major Chetwynd, J. Shawe Manley, Esq., A. 
Hordern, Esq., W. Matthews, Esq., J. Loxdale, Esq., R. Fowler Butler, Esq., 
Major Dyott, T. Hartshorne, Esq., Henry Hill. Esq., (Assistant Chairman 
of the Quarter Sessions), Dr. Holland, P. F. Hussey, Esq., Dr. Knight, John 
Mott, Esq., S. Pole Shawe, Esq., H. J. Pye, Esq, E. D. Scott, Esq., the Rev. 
John Sneyd, Philip Williams, Esq., John Williams, Esq., W. Tarratt, Esq., 
Captain Whitby, John Bourne, Esq., the Rev. C. S. Royds, Dr. Taylor, Major 
Tomlinson, R. H. Haywood, Esq., Dr. Wilson, Edward Wood, Esq., N. P. 
Wood, Esq., F. Stanier, Esq , George Briscoe, Esq., John Leigh, Esq., R. D. 
Gough, Esq, John Hartley, Esq., F. C. Perry, Esq., T. W. Locker, Esq., 
Thomas Salt, Esq., the Rev. Joseph Salt, R. C. Chawner, Esq., E. Elwell, 
jun., Esq., T. J. Birch, Esq, C. and J. Alcock, Esqrs., the Rev. J. A. Fell, 
Thomas Boulton, Esq., F. Bishop, Esq, Sidney Cartwright, Esq., Major 
Fulford, Joseph Mallaby, Esq., the Rev. H. Moore, James Wilkes, Esq., J. 
Henson Webb, Esq, W. H. Sparrow, Esq., J. H. Hatton, Esq., J. B. Heb, 
bert, Esq, Rev R. H. Goodacre, the Rev. J. Kilner, T. C. S. Kynnersley, 
Esq., R. W. Hand, Esq., Colonel Hogg, T. W. Mayer, Esq., Capt. Jordan, 
Major Me Knight, T. D. Weaver, Esq., G. Spilsbury, Esq., C. B. Pass¬ 
man, Esq., E. Mylne, Esq., Charles Trubshaw, Esq., and Mr. S. Hughes, 
secretary to the Testimonial Fund, &c., &c. 

Shortly after twelve o’clock the proceedings commenced, when 


182 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Lord Hatherton addressed Mr. T. F. Twemlow as followsSir,—I need 
not tell you what a subject of deep regret it is to us all to be deprived of the 
presence of your father on this occasion. We have all heard of the melan¬ 
choly event, the cause of his absence; at the same time I may say I think 
he has acted wisely in deputing you to act as his representative, and I believe 
that you will as worthily represent him on this occasion, as you will through¬ 
out life. With these prefatory remarks, I will proceed to execute the com¬ 
mission to which I have been appointed, that of presenting to your father, 
through you, this service of plate. Sir,—A very numerous body of persons, 
who may fairly be considered as representing all that is most intelligent, re¬ 
spectable, and influential in this great county, have desired me to be their 
organ on an occasion on which I have the greatest satisfaction in obeying 
their commands. Amidst all those conflicts of opinion, incident to a poli¬ 
tical constitution like ours, there has been one subject on which there has 
been no kind of disunion among us. All parties have entertained an uni¬ 
form respect for law, and those who have been charged with its administra¬ 
tion; and this feeling has been extended, not merely to those whose pre¬ 
eminent learning and attainments have carried them to the highest honors 
of that noble profession, but has embraced equally that class of gentlemen 
in the various counties and municipalities of the kingdom, whose fortune, 
education, and inclination have led them to study the law, and administer 
justice to those among whom they live. (Hear.) The justices of the peace 
throughout the kingdom, valuing, above all things, the public confidence, 
have always felt it to be of the first importance to their character and autho¬ 
rity, that those, who presided in their courts, should be eminent for their 
learning, their industry, their impartiality, and the independence of then- 
fortune and position. These qualities are certainly not more requisite in 
the presiding magistrate of one county than another; but to secure such 
services in a county like this, containing 620,000 inhabitants, must ever be 
an object of deep responsibility and anxiety to all who are concerned in the 
choice. That this county has now, for a long course of years, had the good 
fortune to secure, in an eminent degree,'the services of chairmen remarkable 
for their ability and zeal, is universally felt and acknowledged. (Hear.) I 
am old enough to remember the distinguished careers of Mr. Sparrow, Sir 
George Chetwynd, and Sir Oswald Mosley. I remember too well the feel¬ 
ings of their contemporaries; I know too well the feelings of those I repre¬ 
sent on this, occasion;—and, above all, Sir, I know your father too well to 
permit myself to say a word with reference to him, which could appear to 
throw a shade over the services of those eminent individuals. (Hear and 
cheers.) On the contrary, we think this the occasion to commemorate them, 
and to declare the honour in which we hold their names. But since the days 
of Mr. Sparrow’s accession to the chair, the population has been doubled. 
Since the days of Sir Oswald Mosley, the number of prisoners tried at the 
sessions, annually, has increased from an average of 470 to 816. I perceive 


BARTHOMLEY. 


183 


that the number in the sessions’ calendars, the last year, was 845. Mr. 
Twemlow has, consequently, found it necessary that the adjournments of the 
quarter sessions, only one of which was adjourned before his time, should be 
increased, and during the last year they had been adjourned four times, which 
has compelled him to quit his home and family eight times in the year, for a 
week each time—a plan which, I fear, must henceforward become the sys¬ 
tem in this county; but we all know, by the past, that he will continue 
cheerfully to make that sacrifice, for the sake of a more speedy administra¬ 
tion of justice, and for the desirable object of economy in the public expendi¬ 
ture, and we all hope to see him actively employed in the administration of 
justice at our sessions and adjourned sessions for many years to come. 
(Cheers.) But it is not Mr. Twemlow’s labours alone which have caused us 
to consider it necessary to mark our sense of his services. Our attention 
has been often directed to the eminent talent he has always displayed in the 
discharge of his duties. Mr. Twemlow has now presided in our courts of 
quarter sessions for nearly twenty years. During that period it has been a. 
source of pride to the county magistracy, to present him to the bar and the 
public as their representative. They well know—I myself can aver it, on the 
highest authorities—that in legal knowledge and attainments he has ac¬ 
quired no ordinary rank as a criminal lawyer. By great application, perse¬ 
verance, and research, he has made himself master of every leading principle 
of the criminal law; and by the tenacity and accuracy of his memory and the 
quickness of his perception, he possesses the power of applying those princi 
pies with uniform propriety and ability, under circumstances of every degree 
of difficulty and complication. These great qualities, united with patience and 
a remarkable kindness of disposition, have won for his character the un¬ 
feigned admiration and respect of all classes in the county. (Cheers.) There 
is another point to which I wish to advert. When your father entered on 
the duties of his office, one part of those duties consisted in laying before the 
county every quarter a balance-sheet of its income and expenditure, and of 
taking orders and directions with respect to the gaol, the bridges of the coun¬ 
ty, the lunatic asylum, and the county finances generally. These duties 
have since devolved upon other hands, and I am authorised by those who 
have now the charge of the financial affairs of the county to express their 
sense of fhe obligations under which they lie to Mr. Twemlow for the able 
counsel and advice which his lengthened experience enables him to afford, 
and which he has always so willingly given to them. (Hear) The county 
has,, consequently, thought that a time had come when it should mark, by 
some public act, its sense of such important services. By a general concur¬ 
rence of feeling among all classes—among its nobility, its gentry, its great 
manufacturers, and especially among those most important and respectable 
classes from which the grand and petty juries are taken for the quarter ses¬ 
sions, and I must not omit to add, the members of the bar generally—a de¬ 
termination was come to, to make to him some offering, which might be a 


184 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


permanent record to liis family of the gratitude of the county. It now only 
remains for me, in the name of the county, to request permission to place in 
his hands, through you, the service of plate now before you. He will not 
consider it as affording, by its intrinsic worth, any estimate of the value of 
of such services as he has rendered, and is still rendering, to the public, but 
as a tribute of gratitude and an expression of the esteem in which he is held 
by a great county, which considers him to have served it for a long course of 
years, with the most distinguished ability and honour. (Applause) I have 
now, Sir, simply to state, in conclusion, the regret of Lord Harrowby, who is 
detained in town by a Government commission, and many gentlemen well 
known to your father, and whose letters I will place in your hands, at their 
inability to be present on this occasion; but I do hope that the general at¬ 
tendance of persons in the highest station in the county here to-day will be 
held as fully justifying the expressions I have used, and that your father will 
receive this testimonial, not as an expression of opinion on the part of a few 
individuals alone, but as expressive of the sentiments of the county at large. 
(Applause.) 

Mr. T. F. Twemlow replied—My lord, as the cause of my father’s un¬ 
fortunate absence appears to be well known to all here, I will at once pro¬ 
ceed to read the address which he himself has prepared, and which I had 
hoped he would have been here to deliver. Mr. Twemlow accordingly read 
the address, which was as follows:—“ My lord,—As you have thought it 
right to intimate to me the substance of the remarks you should make in 
discharging the office imposed upon you, I have deemed it becoming in me 
to record in writing my deep sense of the distinguished honour the county 
has this day conferred upon me. That I do not appear in person is a matter 
of painful regret aDd great disappointment to me; but I trust that the kind 
consideration hitherto invariably shown to me by my brother magistrates 
will be extended to me on this occasion, that they will permit me to plead in 
excuse for my absence the death of a very near relative, so recently as 
Friday last, and that they will allow my son to supply my place by reading 
the address I had prepared. My lord, the duty I have now to discharge is, 
I most unfeignedly assure your lordship, a much more difficult duty than I 
have ever had to perform in the Court of Quarter Sessions. I am quite un¬ 
able, by any language of mine, to return thanks as I ought for the splendid 
testimonial presented to me,—a testimonial in itself of great intrinsic value, 
but to me and to my family made of inestimable value by the inscription it 
bears. I cannot bring myself to think that any imperfect public services of 
mine can have entitled me to such an acknowledgment, to so high a reward. 
It is true that I have for many years been engaged in the service of the 
county, as one of its magistrates, having at the Midsummer Quarter Sessions 
of *1815 qualified to act. At the Midsummer Sessions of 1835 I was in¬ 
duced to take the chair, but this was an honour to which I had never as¬ 
pired, and an honour which I accepted with very great reluctance and 


BARTHOMLEY. 


185 


diffidence. The first intimation I received of any wish on the part of the 
magistrates that I should undertake the duties of the chair, was by a note 
from our then Lord Lieutenant, the late Lord Talbot, whose name I can 
never mention without a feeling of reverence and respect; he informed me 
of the resignation of Sir Oswald Mosley, and put the question, as from him¬ 
self, whether I should be inclined to accept the office. If anything would 
have tempted me to forego all personal considerations, and to become a can¬ 
didate for such a distiction, it would have been my desire to comply with 
any wish expressed by Lord Talbot; but my objections to being placed in a 
prominent public situation were then too great to be evercome, and my 
answer was that I had not any such inclination. I could not indeed con¬ 
sider myself the fittest person for such a distinction. I distrusted my ability 
to perform the duties of the chair, either to the satisfaction of myself or the 
county; and it was not until it appeared that no other magistrate was will¬ 
ing to undertake the task that I was impelled by a sense of public duty to 
obey the call upon me, and to make the attempt. Judge then, my lord, how 
highly I must be gratified when now, at the expiration of nearly twenty 
years, at this advanced period of my life—in my 72nd year—I receive 
from such a county as the county of Stafford, such a mark of public ap¬ 
probation, such a testimonal as is now presented to me; not the gift of 
a few personal friends, but emanating from a body of not less than 
300 contributors of ail ranks, with many of whom I have not even the 
pleasure of being acquainted. Amongst these contributors I find noblemen 
of every rank in the peerage, including the Lord Bishop of the Diocese, 
baronets, and country gentlemen, gentlemen of high consideration, largely 
concerned in the great mining and manufacturing districts; and a long list 
of magistrates, members of the bar, and solicitors, whose respective duties 
call them to the sessions, and who have ample opportunities of knowing how 
the business of the court has been conducted, and how justice has been 
there administered. I find also the names of some members of the bar who, 
having obtained high rank in their profession, or appointments to honour¬ 
able situations, have for some years ceased to attend the sessions. To com¬ 
plete the recital, I find also the names of some ladies, of large possessions in 
the county, whom I recognise as old and esteemed friends. Surely, my lord, 

I may be justified in saying, with a feeling of honest pride, that this is a 
memorable day for me—the most memorable of my life—and your lordship * 
will, I am sure, give me credit for my sincerity when I add, that no words can 
express my feelings on such a day. Your lordship has alluded to the dis¬ 
tinguished career of my predecessors, Mr. Sparrow, Sir George Chetwynd, 
and Sir Oswald Mosley. It was soon after the commencement of my own 
magisterial career that Mr. Sparrow resigned the chair, and t well remember 
being present at the sessions when it was resolved that his portrait should be 
placed in one of the public buildings of the county, in grateful testimony to his 
long and valuable services. Of the time and the talents devoted by the late 


Z 


186 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Sir George Chetwynd and by Sir Oswald Mosley to the interests of the coun¬ 
ty, and of the admirable performance of their official duties, I can myself bear 
witness, having been a fellow-labourer with both during the whole time they 
occupied the chair of the sessions. It was, indeed, my full knowledge of the 
talent, the ability, and the zeal of my predecessors, that tended to create so 
many doubts and fears of my own incompetency to iollow in their track, to 
do credit to myself, or to satisfy the expectations of the county. My lord, I 
accept the offered testimonial with deepest feelings of gratitude to the con¬ 
tributors, and with most heartfelt thanks to my brother magistrates, es¬ 
pecially to my able and unwearied coadjutor, Mr. Hill, and the gentlemen of 
the bar, for the support, the assistance, and the kind attentions I have in¬ 
variably received from them in the performance of my public duties, but not 
without a feeling that my humble talents and imperfect services have been 
very greatly overrated. I flatter myself with the hope that this testimonial 
may descend as an heirloom in my family, and that it may afford evidence 
to those who may come after me, of the estimation in which their ancestor 
was held by his contemporaries. The only merit I can claim for myself is 
that of having, to the utmost of my ability, done my duty to the public in 
the position in which I have been placed, and without the hope or expecta¬ 
tion of any other reward than the testimony of an approving conscience. 
My lord, it only remains for me to thank your lordship for the terms (too 
flattering) in which you have been pleased to speak of me; to thank Mr. 
Loxdale for the kind assistance he has given in selecting the plate (which 
has been described to me as very beautiful), and in otherwise carrying out 
the object of the contributors; and to thank my numerous friends who have 
have done me the honour of being present on this, to me, most gratifying 
occasion.” Mr. Twemlow added,—Gentlemen, I trust you will allow me to 
say on behalf of myself and the other members of my father’s family, that 
we trust we shall ever sufficiently appreciate the honour which you have 
done our father this day, the proceedings of which, we hope, will be an in¬ 
ducement to us to follow his example in performing the duties at all times 
of any station which may be assigned to us. (Cheers ) 

J. Davenport, Esq. (the High Sheriff), then said that he was sure that 
not only the subscribers to the testimonial, but the whole county, were under 
a very great obligation to the lord-lieutenant for the manner in which he had 
presented the testimonial to the worthy chairman of the Quarter Sessions. 
He need not point out the eloquence, the feeling, and the great discrimination 
with which Lord Hatherton had touched on those points which had charac¬ 
terised the mode in which Mr. Twemlow had ever discharged his duties as 
chairman of their Quarter Sessions; and he felt quite sure that they would 
cordially agree to the vote of thanks which he begged leave to move to Lord 
Hatherton for his services on that occasion. He should not, however, be 
content to conclue his remarks without saying a few words on his own be¬ 
half in testimony of the manner in which Mr. Twemlow (who if he were 


BARTHOMLEY. 


187 


present would allow him to call him his friend) had discharged the duties of 
his important office. He had attended the court of quarter sessions for 25 
years, and had known Mr. Twemlow for 20 years, and during the time he 
had presided over that court, he had observed, as he was sure all present had 
noticed, the ability with which Mr. Twemlow had transacted the business of 
the court, which had increased year after year until it became wonderful how 
any man could he found sufficiently patriotic to undertake so great a task. 
(Hear, hear.) He begged leave to move a vote of thanks to the lord- 
lieutenant for the able manner in which he had performed the duties de¬ 
volving upon him that day. (Cheers.) 

The Earl of Dartmouth seconded the resolution. 

The vote of thanks having been passed by acclamation. 

Lord H atherton, in acknowledging the compliment, said it only remained 
for him to express his gratitude to them, and his satisfaction in finding that 
the sentiments he had expressed met with their concurrence. He had found 
but one concurrent feeling on the subject throughout the county, and it had 
been his endeavour as far as he could to make himself its echo. (Applause.) 

The interesting proceedings then terminated, and the company shortly 
afterwards repaired to the Judges Dining Room, and partook of a most ex¬ 
cellent luncheon which had been prepared by Mr. and Mrs. Price, at the 
private expense of the magistrates. 

The family of Twemlow was settled in Arclyd, in the county 
of Chester, in the early part of the 17th century. The estate 
of Arclyd is now possessed by the Rev. William Hamilton 
Twemlow, Rector of Babcary, Somersetshire, whose heir appa¬ 
rent is an only son, Walter Hamilton Twemlow, a lieutenant in 
her Majesty’s 27th regiment, now serving in India. 

Francis Twemlow, Esq., of Betley Court, is of the younger 
branch. His father, Thomas Twemlow, Esq., of the Hill, 
Sandbach, in the county of Chester, died in 1801, leaving, by 
his first wife—(a daughter of John Mare, Esq.,) a daughter, 
Ann, who died on the 29th December, 1854; and by his second 
wife, (Mary, daughter and co-heiress of the Rev. Joseph Ward, 
A.M., Rector of Prestbury, in the county of Chester,) two sons 
and a daughter, viz.:—(1) Thomas, of Peatswood, in the county 
of Stafford, married to Harriet Frances, daughter of Edward 
Venables Townshend, of Wincham, in the county of Chester, 
Esq.; (2.) Francis, married to the youngest daughter of Sir 
Thomas Fletcher, of Betley Court, Bart., by whom he has six 


188 


BARTHOMLEY. 


children, (the survivors of ten,) Thomas Fletcher, married to 
Eliza Anne, daughter of William Paynter, of Bichmond, in the 
county of Surrey, Esq., also possessed of an estate at Fenton, 
in the county of Stafford; Francis Cradock, now Bector of For- 
ton, co. of Salop, he married Charlotte, youngest daughter of 
Bandle Wilbraham, of Bode Hall, in the county of Chester, Esq., 
who is since dead, leaving two children, a son and a daughter; 
John Fletcher; Mary Anne, married to the Bev. Charles Smith 
Boyds; Anastatia, and Elizabeth; and (3.) Mary, residing at the 
Hill, Sandbach. 

Leaving Balterley Hall we arrive at the road which leads to 
Betley, and skirts the grounds of Betley Hall, the residence of 
George Toilet, Esq.; a portion of these grounds and part of 
the adjoining pool are in the township of Balterley, of which 
Mr. Toilet possesses the manor and other lands. Betley Hall 
was purchased in 1718, by George Toilet, Esq., from the re¬ 
presentatives of an ancient branch of the Egerton family, who, 
from very early times, had been possessors of that estate. Mr. 
Toilet, the purchaser, had previously filled important public 
offices. He began his public career in December, 1691, when 
he was appointed Accountant-General of Ireland. On his re¬ 
turn to England, in a letter still extant, dated 1698, he alludes 
to his arduous duties at the Custom House; in 1700 he was 
Secretary of a Commission for the management of the Excise 
Bevenue. Early in 1701 he was made Commissioner of the 
Navy, and on Queen Anne’s accession was continued in the 
same post. A writer in Nichols’s Collection of Poems states, that 
Mr. Toilet, as Commissioner, had a house in the Tower of 
London, but the family tradition is, that this residence was 
connected with a place in the Mint; he certainly resided there, 
after he had ceased to be a Commissioner of the Navy, in the 
early part of the reign of George I, during the imprisonment 
of the celebrated Bobert Harley, Earl of Oxford, who, in 
gratitude to Mr. Toilet, for his kindness to him when in 
confinement, presented him with a gilt cup, with the Tower 


BARTHOMLEY. 


189 


engraved upon it, which has descended as an heir loom. 

Mr. Toilet was an accomplished person, a good musician, an 
excellent mathematician, and was much esteemed by many dis¬ 
tinguished contemporaries. Henry Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, 
calls him “an honest and a very able man.” 1 He was the 
friend of the celebrated John Evelyn, and is mentioned in his 
memoirs as one of the pall-bearers at his funeral. Mr. Toilet, 
and his only daughter, Elizabeth, were honoured with the 
friendship of Sir Isaac Newton. 2 Elizabeth Toilet’s acquire¬ 
ments were remarkable in an age when female education was 
generally neglected. She was skilled in music and drawing, 
well-versed in mathematics, history, and poetry. She spoke 
fluently and correctly the French and Italian languages. Her 
Latin poems are said to be written in truly classical taste. 
These qualifications were dignified by unfeigned piety. After 
her father’s death, she lived at Stratford and Westham, in Es¬ 
sex, and died, unmarried, February 1st, 1754, aged 60. In 
1755 a volume of her poems was published, the best of which 
may be seen in Nichols’s collection. 3 Mr. Toilet had two sons, 
George and Cook. George, after completing his education at 
St. John’s college, Cambridge, disappointed his father’s expec¬ 
tations, went to live in the Isle of Man, where he married a 
Manx lady, Elizabeth Oates, and had two sons, George and 
Charles; George, “to whom,” says Mr. Douce, 4 “the readers 

1 The Earl of Clarendon, writing to Pepys, July 1st, 1700, says, “ It can he no 
secret to you, that the proposals for farming the Revenue of Excise are all rejected, 
and that branch put under the management of a new Commission, in which there 
are some very able men; and your neighbour, Mr. Toilet, I am told, is Secretary to 
that Commission, which I am very glad of, for he is both an honest and a very able 
man.” — Memoirs, Diary, and Correspondence of Samuel Pepys, vol. 5, p. 338.— 
London, 1828. 

Mr. Toilet’s name appears amongst other friends, to whom Rings and Mourn¬ 
ing were presented on Mr. Pepys death, June, 1703. 

2 Nichols’s Collection of Poems, vol. 6th, p. 64. 

3 Chalmer’s Biographical Dictionary, &c. 

A selection from Elizabeth Toilet’s Poems is also included in Frederic Row- 
ton’s “ Female Poets of Great Britain, chronologically arranged.”— London, 1848. 

4 Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. 2, p. 445. 


190 


BARTHOMLEY. 


of Shakspeare are much indebted for many valuable communi¬ 
cations,” was educated at Eton, and King’s college, Cambridge, 
and became a barrister of Lincoln’s Inn. He was wholly de¬ 
voted to books, and led a very secluded bachelor life at Betley, 
where he died October 21st, 1779, aged 54. He was succeeded 
by bis brother Charles, who married Catherine, daughter of 
John Cradock, Esq., of Betley Court. He was High Sheriff of 
Staffordshire in 1782. The old half-timbered house erected by 
the Egertons, being much out of repair, was taken down, and 
the present mansion built on the same site in 1783. Mr. 
Charles Toilet, who died in 1796, left no surviving issue, and 
settled Betley Hall, after the death of his widow, on George 
Embury, Esq., of Lincoln’s Inn, Barrister-at-law, who took the 
name and arms of Toilet. Mr. Embury’s paternal grandmother 
was Margaret, the only child of Charles Toilet, Esq., (brother 
of the first-named George Toilet,) a member of the Hudson’s 
Bay Company, who, in an expedition into the interior of that 
inhospitable region, perished in the snow. 

Of the present proprietor, I must now say a few words, for 
he is associated with my earliest reminiscences, and was a 
friend of your grandfather. Mr. Toilet was long before the 
public as an active magistrate and devoted agriculturist; one 
of the promoters of that agricultural movement which has pro¬ 
duced such great and beneficial results to the kingdom at large. 1 

1 The agricultural meetings originated at Holkham, where Mr. Coke (afterwards 
Earl of Leicester,) in early life began those improvements that turned the rabbit- 
warren which then surrounded his splendid mansion into a garden. His example 
spreading over his large estate, was carried on through the county, and laid the 
foundation of the Norfolk husbandry. The first meeting at Holkham was attended 
by a great number of the principal agriculturists, and continued for three days. 
The mornings were spent in examining the proceedings that were going on upon 
the estate; these morning surveys afforded subjects for discussion during the even¬ 
ing hospitalities. Many very eloquent speeches were made on these occasions, and 
the science and practice of agriculture received an extraordinary stimulus. Francis, 
Duke of Bedford, followed the example of his friend, and a similar meeting was held 
at Woburn. It was carried out in great splendour, the finest stock was exhibited, 
and the best practices of the field were shewn and explained. This meeting was at¬ 
tended by the first agriculturists of the kingdom. Afterwards another was held at 


BARTHOMLEY. 


191 


He married, in 1795, Frances, only child of William Jolliffe, 
Esq., of Hull; they had one son, Charles, and seven daughters, 
Penelope Margaret, Frances Elizabeth, Elizabeth (died 1836,) 
Marianne, married the Rev. William Clive, (died 1841;) Georgi¬ 
na, Ellen Harriet, Caroline Octavia, married the Rev. Thomas 
Stevens, (died 1840.) Mrs. Toilet died in 1850, her mother, 
Mrs. Jolliffe, was Frances, daughter of Thomas Wicksted, Esq., 
of Nantwich, descended from the ancient family of Wicksted, of 
Wicksted Hall, in the county of Chester; the eldest branch of 
which is now represented by the Rev. Charles Wicksted Ethel- 
ston, Rector of Uplyme, Dorsetshire. The late Thomas Wick¬ 
sted, Esq., son of the before-mentioned Thomas Wicksted, re¬ 
presented the male line of the youngest branch of the family. 
He died in 1814, and left his estate to his great nephew, 
Charles, the only son of Mr. Toilet, with strict injunctions 
that he should take the name and arms of Wicksted, which he 
has accordingly done. Charles Wicksted, Esq., married, in 
1834, Mary Charlotte, youngest daughter of Edmund Meysey 
Wigley, Esq., of Shakenhurst, in the county of Worcester, who, 
as co-heiress of the Meyseys and Wigleys, has inherited the Sha¬ 
kenhurst part of the estate. They have two sons, George Ed- 

Holkham, and Sir Watkin W. Wynn invited the usual party to Wynnstay. A con¬ 
siderable portion of them assembled at Crewe Hall in their way. They were re¬ 
ceived with the same hospitalities by Lord Crewe, who introduced them to the best 
dairy farming in Cheshire. At Wynnstay the house was filled; all North Wales 
seemed to have gathered on this occasion. The farming establishment was viewed and 
explained. Hospitalities on so large a scale were seldom before exhibited. Everybody 
was delighted with the novelty of the meeting, and duly appreciated the good effects 
which, in future, might arise from it. In another season, the same party assembled 
at the Earl of Bradford’s, at Weston; at another, at Lord Talbot’s, at Ingestre; 
one or two meetings were at Lord Anson’s, at Shugborough; the last was held at 
Mr. Childe’s, at Kinlet, in 1821. The regular party generally consisted of Mr. Coke, 
the originator, Francis, Duke of Bedford, and afterwards John Duke of Bedford, 
Duke of Norfolk, Earl of Albemarle, Earl Talbot, Earl of Bradford, Viscount Anson, 
Lord Somerville, Lord Dundas, Lord Crewe, Sir John Sinclair, Sir John Sebright, 
Sir Francis Lawley, General Fitzroy, Mr. Talbot, of Guiting, Mr. Cotes, of Wood- 
cote, Mr. Childe, of Kinlet, Mr. Wilbraham, of Delamere, Mr. Edward Blount, Mr. 
Toilet, Rev. Offley Crewe, &c. The present Duke of Bedford, then a very young 
man, accompanied his father on one or two of those friendly circuits.—(E. H.) 


192 


BARTHOMLEY. 


mund, and Charles Meysey, and one daughter, Mary Elizabeth. 

I have before alluded to the literary pursuits of the grand¬ 
son of the purchaser of Betley Hall. This Mr. Toilet assisted 
Messrs. Johnson and Steevens in their edition of Shakspeare’s 
plays; the second edition of this work was published shortly 
before Mr. Toilet’s death, and he loudly complained that many 
of his valuable suggestions were appropriated by the editors 
without any acknowledgment. In the manuscript remarks in 
his hand-writing in the first edition, and in the manuscript pa¬ 
pers which he did not live to collect or publish, there is much 
confirmatory proof of these omissions. But I am enabled by 
another incidental subject, to shew how fully Mr. Toilet was 
acquainted with the olden time, and particularly with the man¬ 
ners, customs, and amusements of England in the days of 
Shakspeare. There was in the old house at Betley Hall, a cu¬ 
rious window of painted glass, representing the ancient English 
Morris dance. Mr. Toilet, supposing this related to the sub¬ 
ject in which he was engaged, published, in Johnson and Stee¬ 
vens’ Shakspeare, an engraving of this part of the window, with 
a description of it. This is of some length, and may be deemed 
unsuited to the light character of a familiar correspondence 
like ours, but as the work in which it is inserted is scarce and 
costly, and as there is a growing taste in literary circles for all 
those subjects which illustrate and explain the past, I shall 
grudge neither time nor trouble to make you acquainted with 
these very clever strictures, unknown to the ‘ million,’ and which 
reflect much light on the former amusements and customs of 
your country. 

The painted glass is still ip existence in the New Hall of 
Betley, where it is most properly preserved as an important 
relic. The figures on it are diminutive, the colours not very 
bright, which might lead the observer to exclaim, comparing 
the disproportion of ‘the glass’ with Mr. Toilet’s ‘opinion,’ 
‘ multum e parvo!’ but so much the more creditable to him, 
who discovered in the paintings what others would overlook! 
















♦ 




' 













MORRIS-DANCERS. 

From an Ancient Window in the House of George Toilet, Esquire, 
at Betley, in Staffordshire. 



























































































BARTHOMLEY. 


193 


MR. TOLLET’S OPINION 

CONCERNING THE MORRIS DANCERS UPON HIS WINDOW. 

“ The celebration of May-day, which is represented upon my window of 
painted glass, is a very ancient custom, that has been observed by noble 
and royal personages, as well as by the vulgar. It is mentioned in Chaucer’s 
‘ Court of Love,’ that early on May-day, “ forth goth al the court, both most 
and lest, to fetch the flouris fresh, and braunch, and blome/ Historians re¬ 
cord, that in the beginning of his reign, Henry the Eighth, with his courtiers, 
‘rose on May-day, very early, to fetch May or green boughs; and they went 
with their bows and arrows shooting to the wood/ Stowe’s ‘ Survey of Lon¬ 
don ’ informs us, that ‘every parish there, or two or three parishes joining 
together, had their Mayings; and did fetch in May poles, with divers warlike 
shews, with good archers, Morrice dancers, and other devices, for pastime all 
the day long/ Shakspere says, ‘ it was impossible to make the people sleep 
on May morning, and that they rose early to observe the rite of May/ 1 
The court of King James the first, and the populace, long preserved the ob¬ 
servance of the day, as Spelman’s Glossary remarks under the word, Maiuma. 
Better judges may decide, that the institution of this festivity originated from 
the Homan Floralia, or from the Celtic la Bel tine, while I conceive it de¬ 
rived to us from our Gothic ancestors. Olaus Magnus de Gentibus Septen- 
trionalibus, lib. xv, c. 8, says, ‘that after their long winter, from the begin¬ 
ning of October to the end of April, the northern nations have a custom to 
welcome the returning splendour of the sun with dancing, and mutually to 
feast each other, rejoicing that a better season for fishing and hunting was 
approached/ In honour of May-day, the Goths and southern Swedes, had a 
mock battle between summer and winter, which ceremony is retained in the 
Isle of Man ; where the Danes and Norwegians had been for a long time 
masters. It appears from Holinshed’s Chronicle, vol. iii, p. 314, or in the 
year 1306, that, before that time, in country towns the young folks chose a 
summer king and queen for sport to dance about May poles. There can be 
no doubt but their Majesties had proper attendants, or such as would best 
divert the spectators; and we may presume, that some of the characters va¬ 
ried, as fashions and customs altered. About half a century afterwards, a 
great addition seems to have been made to the diversion, by the introduction 
of the Morris, or Moorish dance into it, which, as Mr. Peck, in his ‘ Memoirs 
of Milton,' with great probability, conjectures, was first brought into Eng¬ 
land in the time of Edw. Ill, when John of Gaunt returned from Spain, 
where he had been to assist Peter, king of Castile, against Henry, the Bas¬ 
tard. ‘This dance,’ says Mr. Peck, ‘was usually performed abroad by an 
equal number of young men, who danced in their shirts, with ribbands, and 
little bells about their legs. But here, in England, they have always an odd 

1 Henry VIII, act v, scene 3; and Midsummer Night’s Dream, act iv, scene 1. ' 


194 


barthomley. 


person besides, being 1 a boy, dressed in a girl’s habit, whom they call Maid 
Marian, an old favourite character in the sport.’ ‘Thus,’ as he observes in 
the words of Sliakspeare, ‘they made more matter for a May-morning : hav¬ 
ing, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a Morris for May-day.’ 2 

“We are authorised by the poets, Ben Jonson and Drayton, to call some 
of the representations, on my window, Morris Dancers, though I am uncer¬ 
tain whether it exhibits one Moorish personage, as none of them have black 
or tawny faces, nor do they brandish swords, or staves in their hands, 3 nor 
are they, in their shirts, adorned with ribbons. We find in Olaus Magnus, 
that the northern nations danced with brass bells about their knees, and 
such we have upon several of these figures, who may, perhaps, be the origi¬ 
nal English performers in a May-game before the introduction of the real 
Morris dance. However this may be, the window exhibits a favourite diver¬ 
sion of our ancestors in all its principal parts. I shall endeavour to explain 
some of the characters, and in compliment to the lady, I will begin the de¬ 
scription with the front rank, in which she is stationed. I am fortunate 
enough to have Mr. Steevens think with me, that figure 1 may be designed 
for the Bavian fool, or the fool with the slabbering bib, as Bavon, in Cotgraves’ 

‘French Dictionary,’ means a bib for a slabbering child; and this figure has 
such a bib, and a childish simplicity in his countenance. 4 Mr. Steevens re¬ 
fers to a passage in Beaumont and Fletcher’s play of ‘ The two Noble Kins¬ 
men’ by which it appears, that the Bavian in the Morris dance was a tum¬ 
bler, and mimicked the barking of a dog. 

“I apprehend that several of the Morris dancers, on my window, tumbled 
occasionally, and exerted the chief feat of their activity, when they were 
aside the May-pole; and, I apprehend, that jigs, horn-pipes, and the hay were 
their chief dances. It will certainly be tedious to describe the colours of the 
dresses, but the task is attempted upon an intimation, that it might not be 
altogether unacceptable. 

“The Bavian’s cap is red faced with yellow, his bib yellow, his doublet 
blue, his hose red, and his shoes black. 

1 It is evident from several authors, that Maid Marian’s part was frequently per¬ 
formed by a young woman, and often by one, as I think, of unsullied reputation. 
Our Marian’s deportment is decent and graceful. 

2 Twelfth Night, act iii, scene 4. All’s Well that Ends Well, act ii, scene 2. 

3 In the Morisco the dancers held swords in their hands with the points upward, 

says Dr. Johnson’s note in Antony and Cleopatra, act. iii, scene 9. The Goths did 
the same in their military dance, says Olaus Magnus, lib. xv, c. 23. Haydocke’s 
translation of Lomazzo on Painting, 1598, book ii, p. 54, says “there are other ac¬ 
tions of dancing used, as of those who are represented, with weapons in their hands, 
going round in a ring, capering skilfully, shaking their weapons after the manner of 
the Morris, with divers actions of meeting,” &c. “ Others having Morris bells up¬ 

on their ankles.’ 

4 In several of the Northern languages bavian signifies a monkey or Baboon. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


195 


“ Figure 2 is the celebrated Maid Marian, who, as Queen of May, has a 
golden crown on her head, and in her left hand a flower, as the emblem of 
summer. The flower seems designed for a red pink, hut the pointals are 
omitted by the engraver, who copied from a drawing with the like mistake. 
Olaus Magnus mentions the artificial raising of flowers for the celebration of 
May-day; and the supposition of the like practice 1 here, will account for the 
Queen of May having in her hand any particular flower before the season of 
its natural production in this climate. Her vesture was once fashionable in 
the highest degree. It was anciently the custom for maiden ladies to wear 
their hair 3 dishevelled at their coronations, them nuptials, and, perhaps, on 
all splendid solemnities. Margaret, the eldest daughter of Henry VII, was 
married to James, king of Scotland, with the crown upon her head: her hair 
hanging down. Betwixt the crown and the hair was a very rich coif, hang¬ 
ing down behind, the whole length of the body. This single example suffi¬ 
ciently explains the dress of Marian’s head. Her coif is purple, her surcoat 
blue, her cuffs white, the skirts of her robe yellow, the sleeves of a carnation 
colour, and her stomacher red with yellow lace in cross bars. In Shakspeare’s 
play of Henry VIII, Anne Bullen, at her coronation, is in her hair, or, as 
Holinshed says, ‘ her hair hanged down/ but on her head she had a coif, 
with a circlet about it full of rich stones. 

“ Figure 3 is a friar in the full clerical tonsure, with the chaplet of white 
and red beads in his right hand; and, expressive of his professed humility, 
his eyes are cast upon the ground. His corded girdle, and his russet habit, 
denote him to be of the Franciscan order, or one of the grey friars, as they 
were commonly called from the colour of their apparel, which was a russet, 
or a brown russet, as Holinshed, 1586, vol. iii, p. 789, observes. The mix¬ 
ture of colours in his habit may be resembled to a grey cloud, faintly tinged 
with red by the beams of the rising sun, and streaked with black. And such, 
perhaps, was Shakspeare’s aurora, or ‘ the mom in russet mantle clad. Ham¬ 
let, act i, scene 1. The friar’s stockings are red, his girdle is ornamented with 
a golden twist, and with a golden tassel. 3 At his girdle hangs a wallet for the 
reception of provision, the only revenue of the mendicant orders of religious, 
who were named Walleteers, or Budget-bearers. It was customary, 4 in former 
times, for the priest and people, in procession, to go to some adjoining wood 
on May-day morning, and return in a sort of triumph with a May-pole, boughs, 

1 Markham’s translation of Heresbatck’s Husbandry, 1631, observes, “that gilli- 
flowers, set in pots and carried into vaults or cellars, have flowered all the winter 
long, through the warmness of the place.” 

2 Leland’s Collectanea, 1770, vol. iv, pp. 219, 293, vol. v, p. 332, and Holinshed, 
vol. iii, pp. 801, 931; and see Capilli, in Spelman’s Glossary. 

3 Splendid girdles appear to have been a great article of monastic finery. Wyke- 
ham, in his Visitatio Notabilis, prohibits the Canons of Selhorne, any longer wear¬ 
ing silken girdles ornamented with gold or silver. 

4 See Mail Inductio, in Cowel’s Law Dictionary. When the parish priests were 
inhibited by the Diocesan to assist in the May-games, the Franciscans might give 
attendance, as being exempted from episcopal jurisdiction. 


196 


BARTHOMLEY. 


flowers, garlands, and such-like tokens of the spring; and as the grey friars 
were held in very great esteem, perhaps, on this occasion, their attendance 
was frequently requested. Most of Shakspeare’s friars are Franciscans. Mr. 
Steevens ingeniously suggests, that, as Marian was the name of Rohin 
Hood’s beloved mistress, and she was the Queen of May, the Morris friar 
was designed for Friar Tuck, chaplain to Robin Hood, king of May, as Ro¬ 
bin Hood is styled in Sir David Dalrymple’s extracts from the book of the 
* Universal KirJe,’ in the year 1576. 

“ Figure 4 has been taken to be Marian’s Gentleman-usher. Mr. Steevens 
considers him as Marian’s paramour, who, in delicacy, appears uncovered be¬ 
fore her; and, as it was a custom for betrothed persons to wear some mark 
for a token of their mutual engagement, he thinks that the cross-shaped flow¬ 
er on the head of this figure, and the flower in Marian’s hand, denote their 
espousals, or contract. Spenser’s Shepherd’s Calendar, April, specifies the 
flowers worn of paramours to be the pink, the purple columbine, gilliflowers, 
carnations, and sops in wine. I suppose the flower in Marian’s hand to be a 
pink, and this to be a stock-gilliflower; or, the Hesperis, dame’s violet, or 
queen’s gilliflower; but, perhaps, it may be designed for an ornamental ribbon. 
An eminent botanist apprehends the flower upon the man’s head to be an epi- 
medium. Many particulars of this figure resemble Absolon, the parish clerk 
in Chaucer’s Miller’s Tale, such as his curled and golden hair, his ldrtle of 
watchet, his red hose, and Paul’s windows corvin on his shoes, that is, his 
shoes pinked and cut into holes like the windows of St. Paul’s ancient church. 
My window plainly exhibits upon his right thigh a yellow scrip or pouch, in 
which he might, as treasurer to the company, put the collected pence, which 
he might receive, though the cordelier must, by the rules of his order, cany 
no money about him. If this figure should not be allowed to be a parish 
clerk, I incline to call him Hocus Pocus, or some juggler-attendant upon the 
master of the hobby-horse, as ' faire des tours de (jouer de la) gibeciere,’ in 
Boyer’s French Dictionary, signifies to play tricks by virtue of Hocus Pocus. 
His red stomacher has a yellow lace, and his shoes are yellow. Ben Jonson 
mentions ‘HokosPokos in a juggler’s jerkin,’ which Skinner derives from 
kirtlekin; that is, a short kirtle; and such seems to be the coat of this figure. 

“Figure 5 is the famous hobby-horse, who was often forgotten, or disused 
in the Moms dance, even after Maid Marian, the friar, and the fool were 
continued in it, as is intimated by Ben Jonson’s 1 masque of the • Metamor • 

1 Yol. vi, p. 93, of Whalley’s edition, 1756 : — 

“ Clo. They should he Morris dancers by their gingle, hut they have no napkins/’ 

“ Coc. No, nor a hobby-horse.” 

“ Clo. Oh, he’s 1 often' forgotten, that’s no rule; but there is no Maid Marian, 
nor friar amongst them, which is the surer mark.” 

Vol. v, p. 211 i— 

“ But see, the hobby-horse is forgot. 

“ Fool, it must be your lot, 

“ To supply his want with faces, 

“ And some other buffoon graces.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


197 


phosed Gipsies,' and in his ‘ Entertainment of the Queen and Prince at Al- 
thorpe * Our hobby is a spirited horse of pasteboard, on which the master 
dances, 1 and displays tricks of legerdemain; such as the threading of the 
needle, the mimicking of the whigh-hie, and the daggers in the nose, &c., as 
Ben Jonson, edition 1756, vol. i, p. 171, acquaints us, and thereby explains 
the swords in the man’s cheeks. What is stuck in the horse s mouth I ap¬ 
prehend to be a ladle, ornamented with a ribbon. Its use was to receive the 
spectators’ pecuniary donations. The crimson foot-cloth, fretted with gold, 
the golden bit, the purple bridle with a golden tassel, and studded with gold; 
the man’s purple mantle with a golden border, which is latticed with purple, 
his golden crown, purple cap with a red feather, and with a golden knop, in¬ 
duce me to think him to be the king of May, though he now appears as a 
juggler and a buffoon. We are to recollect the simplicity of ancient times, 
which knew not polite literature, and delighted in jesters, tumblers, jugglers, 
and pantomimes. The emperor Lewis the Debonair not only sent for such 
actors upon great festivals, but, out of complaisance to the people, was obliged 
to assist at their plays, though he was averse to publick shews. 

“ Queen Elizabeth was entertained at Kenilworth with Italian tumblers, 
Morris dancers, &c. The colour of the hobby-horse is a reddish white, like 
the beautiful blossom of the peach-tree. The man’s coat or doublet is the 
only one upon the window that has buttons upon it, and the right side of it 
is yellow, and the left red. Such a parti-coloured 2 jacket, and hose in the 
like manner, were occasionally fashionable from Chaucer’s days to Ben 
Jonson’s, who, in Epigram 73, speaks of ‘a partie-per-pale picture, one-half 
drawn in solemn Cyprus, the other in Cobweb-Lawn.’ 

“ Eigure 6 seems to be a clown, peasant, or yeoman, by his brown visage, 
notted hair, and robust limbs. 3 In Beaumont and Fletcher’s play of ‘The 
Two Noble Kinsmen, a clown is placed next to the Bavian fool in the Mor¬ 
ris dance; and this figure is next to him on the file or in the downward line. 
His bonnet is red, faced with yellow, his jacket red, his sleeves yellow, striped 
across or rayed with red, the upper part of his hose is like the sleeves, and 
the lower part is a coarse deep purple, his shoes red. 

“ Figure 7, by the superior neatness of his dress, may be a franklin or a 
gentleman of fortune. His hair is curled, his bonnet purple, his doublet red 
with gathered sleeves, and his yellow-stomacher is laced with red. His hose 

1 Dr. Plott’s History of Staffordshire, p. 434, mentions a dance by a hobby-horse 
and six others. 

2 Holinshed, 1586, vol. iii, pp. 326, 805, 812, 844, 963. Whalley’s edition of 
Ben Jonson, vol. vi, p. 248. Stowe’s Survey of London, 1720, hook v, pp. 164, 166. 
Urry’s Chaucer, p. 198. 

3 So, in Chaucer’s “ Canterbury Tales,” the yeoman is thus described: 

“ A nott hede had he, with a brown visage.” 

Again, in the “Widow’s Tears,” by Chapman, 1612:-“ Your not-headed country 
gentleman.” 


198 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


red, striped across or rayed with a whitish brown, and spotted brown. His 
codpiece is yellow, and so are his shoes. 

“ Figure 8, the May-pole, is painted yellow and black in spiral lines. Spel- 
man’s ‘ Glossary’ mentions the custom of erecting a tall May-pole, painted 
with varions colours. Shakspeare, in the play of ‘A Midsummer Night’s 
Dream,’ act iii, scene 2, speaks of a painted May-pole. Upon our pole are 
displayed St. George’s red cross, or the banner of England, and a white pen¬ 
non or streamer emblazoned with a red cross, terminating like the blade of 
a sword, but the delineation thereof is much faded. It is plain, however, 
from an inspection of the window, that the upright line of the cross, which 
is disunited in the engraving, should be continuous. 1 Keysler, in p. 78, of 
his Northern and Celtic Antiquities, give us, perhaps, the original of May- 
poles; and that the French used to erect them, appears also from Mezeray’s 
‘History of their king Henry IV,’ and from a passage in Stowe’s ‘Chronicle,’ 
in the year 1560. Mr. Theobald and Dr. Warburton acquaint us, that the 
May games, and particularly some of the characters in them, became excep¬ 
tionable to the puritanical humour of former times. By an ordinance of the 
Bump Parliament, 2 in April, 1644, all May-poles were taken down and re¬ 
moved by the constables and churchwardens, &c. After the restoration they 
were permitted to be erected again. I apprehend they are now generally un¬ 
regarded and unfrequented: but we still, on May-day, adorn our doors in the 
country with flowers and the boughs of birch, which tree was especially 
honoured on the same festival by our Gothic ancestors. 

“To prove figure 9 to be Tom the Piper, Mr. Steevens has very happily 
quoted these lines from Drayton’s third eclogue:— 

* Myself above Tom Piper to advance. 

Who so bestirs him in the Morris dance 
For penny wage.’ 

His tabour, tabour-stick and pipe, attest his profession; the feather in his 
cap, his sword, and silver-tinctured shield, may denote him to be a squire 
minstrel, or a minstrel of the superior order. Chaucer, 1721, p. 181, says: 

* Minstrels used a red hat.’ Tom Pipers bonnet is red, faced or turned up 
with yellow, his doublet blue, the sleeves blue, turned up with yellow, some¬ 
thing like red mufletees at his wrists, over his doublet is a red garment, like 
a short cloak, with arm holes, and with a yellow cape, his hose red, and gar- 

1 St. James was the apostle and patron of Spain, and the knights of his 
order were the most honourable there, and the ensign that they wore, was white, 
charged with a red cross in the form of a sword. The pennon, or streamer, upon 
the May-pole, seems to contain such a cross. If this conjecture he admitted, we 
have the banner of England, and the ensign of Spain upon the May-pole; and, per¬ 
haps, from this circumstance we may infer, that the glass was painted during the 
marriage of King Henry VIII and Katharine of Spain. For an account of the 
Ensign of the Knights of St. James, see Ashmole’s ‘ History of the Order of the 
Garter,’ and ‘ Mariana’s History of Spain.’ 

2 This should have been called the Long Parliament. The Rump Parliament 
was in Oliver’s time. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


199 


nished across, and perpendicularly on the thighs, with a narrow yellow lace. 
This ornamental trimming seems to he called gimp-thigh’d, in Grey’s edition 
of ‘Butler’s Hudibras,’ and something almost similar occurs in ‘Loves La¬ 
bour Lost] act iv, scene 2, where the poet mentions, ‘ Rhimes are guards on 
wanton Cupid’s hose.’ His shoes are brown. 

“Figures 10 and 11 have been thought to be Flemings or Spaniards, and 
the latter a Morisco. The bonnet of figure 10 is red, turned up with blue, 
his jacket red, with red sleeves down the arms, his stomacher white, with a 
red lace, his hose yellow, striped across or rayed with blue, and spotted blue, 
the under part of his hose blue, his shoes are pinked, and they are of a light 
colour; I am at a loss to name the pennant-like slips waving from his 
shoulders, hut I will venture to call them side-sleeves, or long-sleeves, slit 
into two or three parts. The poet Hocclive, or Occleve, about the reign of 
Richard IT, or of Henry IV, mentions side-sleeves of penny-less grooms, 
which swept the ground; and do not the two following quotations infer the 
use or fashion of two pair of sleeves upon one gown or doublet? It is asked 
in the appendix to Bulwer’s ‘Artificial Changeling’: ‘What use is there of 
any other than arming sleeves, which answer the proportion of the arm’? In 
‘Much ado about Nothing,’ act iii, scene 4, a lady’s gown is described with 
down-sleeves, and side-sleeves, that is, as I conceive it, with sleeves down 
the arms, and with another pair of sleeves, slit open before from the shoulder 
to the bottom, or almost to the bottom, and, by this means, unsustained by 
the arms, and hanging down by her sides to the ground, or as low as her 
gown. If such sleeves were slit downwards into four parts, they would be 
quartered; and Holinshed says: ‘that at a royal mummery, Henry VIII 
and fifteen others appeared in Almain jackets, with long quartered sleeves;’ 
and I consider the bipartite, or tripartite sleeves of figures 10 and 11 as only 
a small variation of that fashion. Mr. Steevens thinks the winged sleeves 
of figures 10 and 11 are alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher in the ‘Pil¬ 
grim’:— 

* -That fairy rogue that haunted me, 

‘He has sleeves like dragon’s wings.’ 

And he thinks, that from these, perhaps, the fluttering streamers of the pre¬ 
sent Morris dancers in Sussex may he derived. Markham’s ‘Art of Angling,’ 
1635, orders the angler’s apparel to he ‘without hanging sleeves, waving 
loose, like sails.’ 

“Figure 11 has upon his head a silver coronet, a purple cap with a red 
feather, and with a golden knop. In my opinion, he personates a nobleman, 
for I incline to think that various ranks of life were meant to be represented 
upon my window. He has a post of honour, or ‘ a station in the valued’ 1 
file, which here seems to he the middle row, and which, according to my 
conjecture, comprehends the queen, the king, the May-pole, and the noble- 

1 The right hand file is the first in dignity and account, or in degree of value; 
according to Count Mansfield’s ‘Directions of War, 1624.’ 


200 


BARTHOMLEY. 


man. The golden crown upon the head of the master of the hobby-horse 
denotes pre-eminence of rank over figure 11, not only by the greater value 
of thei metal, but by the superior number of points raised upon it. The 
shoes are blackish, the hose red, striped across, or rayed with brown, or with 
a darker red, his cod-piece yellow, his doublet yellow, with yellow side- 
sleeves, and red arming-sleeves, or down sleeves. The form of his doublet is 
remarkable. There is great variety in the dresses and attitudes of the Mor¬ 
ris dancers on the window, but an ocular observation will give a more accu¬ 
rate idea of this and of other particulars, than a verbal description. 

“ Figure 12 is the counterfeit fool, that was kept in the royal palace, and 
in all great houses, to make sport for the family. He appears with all the 
badges of his office : the bauble in his hand, and a coxcomb hood with ass s 
ears on his head. The top of the hood rises into the form of a cock’s neck 
and head, with a bell at the latter; and Minshew’s ‘Dictionary, 1627/ under 
the word ‘ coxcomb/ observes, that ‘ natural idiots and fools have [accustomed,] 
and still do accustome themselves to weare in their cappes cocke’s feathers, 
or a hat with a necke and a head of a cocke on the top, and a bell thereon, 
&c. His hood is blue, guarded or edged with yellow at its scalloped 
bottom, his doublet is red, striped across or rayed with deeper red, 
and edged with yellow, his girdle yellow, his left side hose yellow, 
with a red shoe, and his right side hose blue, soled with red leather. 
Stowe’s Chronicle, 1614, p. 899, mentions a pair of cloth-stockings, soled 
with white leather, called ‘cashambles/ that is, ‘ Chausses semellSs de cuir/ 
as Mr. Anstis, on the Knighthood of the Bath, observes. The fool’s bauble, 
and the carved head with ass’s ears upon it, are all yellow. There is in 
Olaus Magnus, 1555, p. 524, a delineation of a fool, or jester, with several 
bells upon his habit, with a bauble in his hand, and he has on his head a 
hood with ass’s ears, a feather, and the resemblance of the comb of a cock. 
Such jesters seem to have been, formerly, much caressed by the northern na¬ 
tions, especially in the court of Denmark; and, perhaps, our ancient ‘ jocula - 
tor regis / might mean such a person. A gentleman of the highest class in 
historical literature apprehends, that the representation upon my window is 
that of a Morris dance procession about a May-pole; and he inclines to think, 
yet, with many doubts of its propriety in a modern painting, that the per¬ 
sonages in it rank in the boustrophedon form. By this arrangement, says 
he, the piece seems to form a regular whole, and the train is begun and 
ended by a fool in the following manner: figure 12 is the well-known fool; 
figure 11 is a Morisco, and figure 10 a Spaniard, persons peculiarly perti¬ 
nent to the Morris dance; and he remarks, that the Spaniard obviously 
forms a sort of middle term betwixt the Moorish and the English characters, 
having the great fantastical sleeve of the one, and the laced stomacher of the 
other. Figure 9 is Tom the Piper. Figure 8 the May-pole. Then follow 

1 The ancient kings of France wore gilded helmets; the dukes and counts wore 
silvered ones. See Selden’s “ Titles of honour for the raised points of Coronets.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


201 


the English characters, representing, as he apprehends, the five great ranks of 
civil life. Figure 7 is the franklin, or private gentleman. Figure 6 is a plain 
churl or villane. He takes figure 5, the man within the hobby horse, to be, 
perhaps, a Moorish king, and, from many circumstances of superior grandeur, 
plainly pointed out as the greatest personage of the piece, the monarch of 
the May, and the intended consort of our English Maid Marian. Figure 4 is 
a nobleman. Figure 3 the friar, the representative of all the clergy. Figure 2 is 
Maid Marian, queen of May. Figure 1, the lesser fool, closes the rear. 

“My description commences where this concludes, or I have reversed this 
gentleman’s arrangement, by which, in either way, the train begins and ends 
with a fool; but I will not assert that such a disposition was designedly ob¬ 
served by the painter. 

“With regard to the antiquity of the painted glass there is no memorial or 
traditional account transmitted to us; nor is there any date in the room but 
this, 1621, which is over a door, and which indicates, in my opinion, the year 
of building the house. The book of ‘ Sports, or lawful Recreations upon Sun¬ 
day after Evening-prayers, and upon Holy-days,’ published by king James, 
in 1618, allowed May games, Morris dances, and the setting up of May-poles; 
and, as Ben Jonson’s ‘ Masque of the Metamorphosed Gypsies,’ intimates, 
that Maid Marian, and the friar, together with the often forgotten hobby¬ 
horse, were sometimes continued in the Morris dance as late as the year 1621. 

I once thought that the glass might be stained about that time; but my pre¬ 
sent objections to this are the following ones:—It seems from the prologue 
to the play of King Henry VIII. that Shakspeare’s fools should be dressed 
‘in a long motley coat guarded with yellow;’ but the fool upon my window 
is not so habited, and he has upon his head a hood, which I apprehend 
might be the coverture of the fool's head before the days of Shakspeare, when 
it was a cap with a comb like a cock’s, as both Dr. Warburton and Dr. 
Johnson assert, and they seem justified in doing so from King Lear’s fool 
giving Kent his cap, and calling it his cox-comb. I am uncertain whether 
any judgment can be formed from the manner of spelling the inscrolled in¬ 
scription upon the May-pole, upon which is displayed the old banner of Eng¬ 
land, and not the union flag of Great Britain, or St. George’s red cross and 
St. Andrew’s white cross joined together, which was ordered by King James 
in 1606, as Stowe’s Chronicle certifies. Only one of the doublets has buttons, 
which I conceive were common in Queen Elizabeth’s reign: nor have any 
of the figures rufls, which fashion commenced in the latter days of Henry 
VIII, and from their want of beards also I am inclined to suppose they were 
delineated before the year 1535, when ‘ King Henry VIII commanded all 
about his court to poll their heads, and caused his own to be polled, and his 
beard to be notted, and no niQre shaven.’ Probably the glass was painted 
in his youthful days, when he delighted in May-games, unless it may be 
judged to be of much higher antiquity by almost two centuries. 

“Such are my conjectures upon a subject of so much obscurity; but it is 

B 1 


202 


BARTHOMLEY. 


high time to resign it to one more conversant with the history of our ancient 
dresses.”— Toilet. 

From what you have read you perceive that this stained glass 
tells no common tale; but, like the Bayeux tapestry, illustrates 
past time, and serves to give reality to customs, manners, and 
amusements, known to us chiefly from books, or theatrical re¬ 
presentations; yet, once, those of our ancestors, as much as 
any in which we ourselves engage. 

If for nothing else, we owe the window a debt of gratitude, for 
drawing forth the research and learned opinion of Mr. Toilet. 1 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XVI. 


MY DEAR BOY. 

On the right-hand side of the road leading from Balterley 
Hall to Betley, is a cottage-like farm house, built in 1620, made 
ornamental by some old Scotch fir-trees planted about it, and 
having a good substantial pigeon-house, not permitted of yore 
to appertain to the buildings of any grade inferior to that of a 
yeoman. It is called Buddi-lee,/ and is the ancient freehold pro¬ 
perty of Mr. Steele; the lands belonging to it support ten milking- 
cows, and produce the usual proportion of corn, &c. grown on 
farms of its dimensions in this part of England. Buddi-lee is a 
title not strictly confined to Mr. Steele’s farm: the last syllable, 
Tee,’ is a general term, and we find, from the parish registers, 
that a small adjoining locality bears the name of Budclilee. 

1 An engraving of this celebrated ancient Window, printed in colours, is given 
as a Title to the first volume of Charles Knight’s extremely interesting work, 
entitled “ Old England: a Pictorial Museum of Regal , Ecclesiastical , Baronial , Mu¬ 
nicipal, and Popular Antiquities .” Folio, 1845. 

An engraving of it is also given with an elaborate “Dissertation upon the Morris 
Dance and Maid Marian,” appended to a beautiful edition of “ The Lytell Geste of 
Robin Hood,” etc., edited by J. M. Gutch, 2 vols., 1847. 

In “ Hone’s Year Book” (page 834) will likewise be found an account of the 
“ Morrice Dancer and Maid Marian,” with a reference to Mr. Toilet’s Window, 
and his account of it. 

A full investigation of this curious subject may be found in “ Douce’s Illustra¬ 
tions of Shakspeare.” 




BARTHOMLEY. 


203 


Not far from Mr. Steele’s farm, on tlie left-hand side of the 
main road from Betley to Nantwich and Crewe, is Doddlespool 
Hall, literally, and not very euphoniously, ‘Toad’s-pool Hall.’ 
This house was built in 1605, over the door-way of the porch 
is the date of erection, together with these initials, I S . E S. 
1605; whom they represent, I have failed to discover, unless 
they belong to some members of the large family of Smith; the 
name, too, of a numerous family in the adjoining parish of 
Audley, one of which might have settled here. The house and 
estate were purchased, in 1763, by John Hodgson, from 
Thomas Rowlison. In 1783, Mr. Robert Hodgson, (an excel¬ 
lent old man, whom I well and gratefully remember,) a Leghorn 
merchant, bought them from John Hodgson. Mr. Robert 
Hodgson, who died in 1816, 1 left the property to his nephew, 
Mr. Thomas Hodgson, and in default of issue, to the present 
proprietor, Lieut.-Col. Tomkinson. Doddlespool Hall was 
lately the residence of Doming Rasbotliam, Esq., whose de¬ 
parture from the place was the cause of much sorrow to the 
whole neighbourhood, especially to the poor of Balterley, who 
had largely partaken of the benevolent liberality of Mrs. Ras- 
botham and himself for many years. No one has made greater 
improvement on a small farm than Mr. Rasbotham did on his: 
the levelled ground, the well-formed hedges, the luxuriant 
crops, evinced a neatness, care, and knowledge, very character¬ 
istic of himself, and in striking contrast with the adjoining 
lands. It is now the residence of Thomas Firmstone, Esq. 

About a quarter of a mile nearer Crewe, and on the road¬ 
side, stands a well-built house, (in the township of Weston,) 
belonging to Mr. Thomas Lees, formerly a grocer of Tunstall, 
who bought a part of Mr. Tait’s land, situate in Weston and 
Balterley. Many commercial men have made the best agricultur¬ 
ists; as witness Mr. Mechi; and others who might be mention¬ 
ed. They bring with them to their new pursuit quickened in¬ 
tellect, general information, and business habits: three things 
in which most mere farmers are lamentably deficient. Calcula- 

1 See Barthomley Monuments. 


204 


BARTHOMLEY. 


tions on a broad scale are formed by these commercialists, and 
the appliances of steam, newly invented implements, and chemis¬ 
try, are brought into requisition to make them answer; so that 
agriculture becomes, in their hands, what it really is, an inter¬ 
esting science. Mr. Lees has already done much. At the back 
of his house is a steam engine for several purposes; and deep 
drainage has turned an old mere into more solid use, and en¬ 
abled him to grow on cold stiff land capital crops of turnips 
and mangel-worzel. 

Balterley has, indeed, undergone a great and beneficial change. 
"When I was young a large part of it was a wild and unculti¬ 
vated heath: the home, pasture, and play-ground of a multitude 
of rabbits. The common and waste lands were enclosed under 
an agreement among the freeholders in 1813. Mr. Toilet has 
planted the land around old Balterley Mere with Scotch firs 
and other trees, whilst the remaining shares of the spoil which 
fell to him, Mr. Twemlow, Lieut.-Col. Tomkinson, and others, 
are metamorphosed into productive fields, crofts, and gardens. 

The salubrity of the air of Balterley is shewn by the longevi¬ 
ty of its inhabitants. The mother of Mrs. Steele, of Buddilee, 
(1855,) has reached the age of 93; Mr. Steele, 83; his sister, 85. 
A few years ago, two very old couples, named Bowley, (very dis¬ 
tantly, if at all related,) were living near each other at Balter¬ 
ley. Robert Rowley died aged 93. Martha, his wife, was 87. 
Edward Rowley died at 90; his widow, Jane, is still living 
(1855,) aged 89. 

ITH the Natural History of Balterley I have a 
very limited acquaintance. Mr. Toilet has, 
however, kindly given me some valuable in¬ 
formation on the subject. 

Before Balterley heath was planted, he saw a Teal fly out of 
the heather ; he went to the place, and found a nest with 
eleven eggs in it. After an interval, he revisited the spot, and 
found, from the shells, that every egg had been hatched. To¬ 
wards November a lot of thirteen of these birds were seen, 







BARTHOMLEY. 


205 


which, no doubt, were those that had been hatched upon the 
heath, and, in the course of the winter, they afforded amuse¬ 
ment to the sportsman. The next summer and near the same 
place, he saw two whitish eggs, about the size of a pigeon’s, up¬ 
on the ground, close together, hut without any appearance of a 
nest, except that the earth was a little hollowed where the eggs 
lay; he wondered at the circumstance, and placed a mark near 
the spot. After a certain time he returned to the mark, and, 
looking about, saw the place without the eggs, and thought the 
nest might have been taken. 1 In a minute or so, two wide¬ 
mouthed screaming things scrambled into the heather, he 
caught one of them, and immediately recognized it to be the 
young of the Fern Owl, or Night Jar, not a common bird in 
that locality. Formerly, at the same place, snipes might, fre¬ 
quently, be heard drumming in the air, in fine spring weather; 
but the bog is drained, and they are gone. 

Of water-fowl, Betley-pool affords some curious specimens, 
and, as there are certain peculiarities respecting the various 
boundaries that meet in the Betley Hall pool, which come 
within the scope of our miscellany, I shall specify them here. 
The whole pool is in the county of Stafford; it is partly in the 
parish of Betley, partly in the parish of Barthomley— (which is 
a Cheshire parish.) It is partly in the diocese of Lichfield, 
partly in the diocese of Chester. It is partly in the province of 
Canterbury, partly in the province of York. Formerly, there was 
a Mill fed by the dividing boundary stream: all the mill premises 
were in the county of Stafford; those on the left hand were in 
the parish of Betley; those on the right, in the parish of Bar¬ 
thomley; those on the left, in the diocese of Lichfield; those 
on the right, in the diocese of Chester; those on the left, in 
the province of Canterbury; those on the right, in the province 
of York. The mill was burnt down about a century ago, and 
has not since been re-built. 2 

1 The young ones -were not seen from the similarity of their colour to the ground. 

2 The Old Hall, the original seat of the Egertons of Betley, part of which still 
remains as a farm-house, was within 150 yards of the boundary stream. 


206 


BARTHOMLEY. 


I will now insert a communication I have received from Mr. 
Toilet, respecting the birds that frequent this pool:— 

“The migratory fowl, (he writes,) that commonly visit and 
rest upon the pool, are various kinds of widgeons, pochards, 
golden eyes, teal, shovellers, &c. Some of these, from the quiet 
which had been so long established, it was hoped would stay 
and breed. Several times some of them have stayed so late, 
that we considered them as settled, hut on some fine morning 
they were missing. The tippet-grebe, or cargoose, ( columbus 
crestatus,) is one of the migratory birds that have generally 
come to the pool in the spring, and often in the autumn. They 
came, usually, one at a time, to rest (as it was supposed) on the 
way to some other locality. In the spring of 1852 there came 
two of these birds, and staying a longer time than usual, it at¬ 
tracted my attention, and I had reason to know that they were 
a pair. After some time, one of them disappeared; the other 
remained fishing at the usual place in the pool. I was absent 
from home for a week; and on my return, found the cargoose 
in the same situation. About a week after that, I saw both the 
cargeese, and, looking through the telescope, I espied one of 
them sporting, as it were, round the other, and I then suspect¬ 
ed there might be a hatch of young ones, hut, after looking 
carefully, I could not see any. 

“ The next morning I saw them opposite my window, at about 
the distance of twenty yards from each other, one of them diving. 
The diving bird frequently going up to the other, I supposed, 
to feed its companion, but, watching with my telescope, I found 
this was not the case. At length, to my great surprise, I saw 
a young bird slip down the back of the old one into the water; 
it kept swimming round close to the mother for a short time, 
and then regained its situation by getting up from the tail, 
which the carrying bird seemed often to present towards the 
little one. The next day I saw two young ones come down in¬ 
to the water; after swimming about for a short time, they re¬ 
sumed their places on the mother’s back. The following day. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


207 


with the telescope, I saw the heads of one or two of the young 
ones peeping out from under the feathers, and soon three ap¬ 
peared on the water, so that three was the number of the hatch. 
They were afterwards, frequently, seen following the same prac¬ 
tices. Two of the goslings grew rapidly, the other was much 
smaller, and died in a few days. The two continued to prosper, 
and, after a time, only resorted to the hack of the mother, in cold 
or stormy weather. They soon began to exercise themselves in 
diving when near their parents, and often all were under the 
water together. They soon acquired their plumage. On the 
part where the tippet comes the colour gets darker, and divides 
itself into streaks down the back, which gives them, at that 
age, a very handsome appearance. The general tint is a blue- 
isli ash colour. By this time they have ceased to be carried, 
and go about with the old birds, diving and, as it were, fishing 
with them. How soon the young birds are capable of catching 
fish for themselves it is not easy to ascertain. At first, no 
doubt, the parents help them, but as there is plenty of food in 
the water, they, probably, soon learn to help themselves. 

“All these birds are of rapid growth, and, if hatched in proper 
time, are capable of emigrating by September, the usual month 
of their departure. Probably, from hence they visit the lakes 
in more southern latitudes, and in the depth of winter seek 
their food within the tropics. The facts, here so imperfectly 
detailed, were, to me, astonishing, as I had never seen, heard, 
or read of these circumstances before. Here is another instance 
of Almighty Providence ! All these birds live and feed in the 
waters which are the natural habitats of the devouring pike. 
If the small young of the grebe, when hatched, were exposed on 
the open waters of the lake, where the cargoose must feed, they 
would, without this protection, be immediately destroyed by the 
pike. On the back of the mother they are, for three weeks or 
a month, kept in a state of safety; afterwards, by diving, and 
the help of the old ones, they have a chance of escape. The 
duck and its congeners, the widgeons, &c., though they feed, 


208 


BARTHOMLEY. 


with their young, on the shallow borders, and among the reeds, 
which, in many respects, are a great safeguard, are, notwithstand¬ 
ing, greatly devoured by the pike. Every fisherman knows, 
that a young wild duck, either natural or artificial, is one of 
the best baits he can make use of in the proper season; a plain 
proof that the goslings of the cargeese, on the central parts of 
the water, not having the advantages which the duck tribe pos¬ 
sesses on the sides, would be utterly destroyed. The cargeese 
on my pool make their nest on the beds of lake weeds, which 
are left in certain parts for the benefit of the fish. There they 
rest at night, and at other times when rest is required. Three 
or four young ones, which are about the number for which the 
mother can find accommodation, would he the natural limit 
of the eggs and of the hatch. 

“I had much difficulty in establishing, if I may so say, the se¬ 
mi-domestication of the wild-ducks, bald-coots, and moor-hens, 
which have taken place on the home pool. The wild-ducks are 
easily managed, of these I once had a great number, and they 
could readily be restored; hut the coot, in his approach to do¬ 
mestication, requires many years of patience, with every advan¬ 
tage of locality. We were a long time getting them to come 
within sight. At length, in feeding the wild ducks with dry 
bread, which floated upon the surface, it was observed that the 
coots, when the feeding was over, came to pick up any rem¬ 
nants. The fact was noticed, and the ducks were purposely fed 
where the wind would drive the bread far into the pool. By 
this stratagem we got them nearer and nearer, and, after some 
years, they were brought to feed with ducks at the water edge. 
It took much care and patience, and a considerable space of time, 
to bring them to come boldly up on the land for their food; when 
this was accomplished, the feeding place was, very gradually, 
brought nearer the house. At length, after an exercise of pa¬ 
tience of at least twenty years, these obstinate anti-domestic 
birds were brought to feed boldly under my window, and have 
continued to do so for about twenty-five years. They are fed 


BARTHOMLEY. 


209 


every day in winter; from twenty to thirty stay at home, and 
forget to migrate during the severest frost. The moor-hen, 
though, in some instances, more shy, is naturally a bolder bird, 
and yielded to us much more readily than the coot; they feed 
together, and make up about the same number. I have never 
known any other instance in which the bald-coots have been 
brought to receive their food from the habitation, and from the 
hand of man.” 

Graphic and interesting as the above description of the proof 
of the domestication of the water-fowl is, it does not at all sur¬ 
pass one, which I also received from Mr. Toilet, relating to his 
Heronry . He had long been desirous to establish one at Bet- 
ley, and, some years ago, wrote to me for an account of one in 
the north of Lancashire, with which I was acquainted. In his 
correspondence with me on the subject, he stated, that one 
great consideration which made him so ardent in the pursuit 
was, that this interesting bird, the heron—once so cherished by 
the great ones of the earth, whilst it contributed to their fa¬ 
vourite amusement—was now persecuted, by great and little, on 
false pretences, from the mistaken notion that it destroys the 
useful fish, and injures the community; whereas, in his opinion, 
founded on much observation which his locality, so near the 
pool, enabled him to make, he was convinced the office of the 
heron was to destroy the small fry, with which the superfecun¬ 
dity of fish overwhelmed the waters, and took away the food from 
the better fish. He, therefore, took every means in his power to 
induce the herons, that visited the pool, to stay and breed there; 
offering them a quiet and safe asylum. He desired, that when 
they appeared in the wood, or on the borders of the pool, they 
should not be disturbed, and this regulation was duly attended 
to for about thirty years. At the expiration of that time, ten 
or twelve years ago, a nest was discovered. Two ladies, coming 
in from their walk, told him they had witnessed a strange sight, 
two herons fighting with a number of rooks. He instantly went 
to the spot, and found both herons at work on a nest in the 

c 1 


210 


BARTHOMLEY. 


wood. With a little annoyance from the rooks, the nest went 
on to a successful termination; three young ones were hatched, 
and left the wood, with their parents, at the usual season. 
There were two nests the second year, four the year after, and 
they have since gradually increased. In 1854 there were nine 
or ten nests. Mr. Toilet saw fifteen on the wing at one time, 
so that he now considers the heronry established. With these 
introductory observations, I will now insert what Mr. Toilet 
has kindly written for me, and very aptly calls an— 

“apology for the heron. 

“ A principal charge against the heron is, that it is very de- 
structive to our fish, which constitute an important article in 
the food of man. If this could be proved, I should acknowledge 
the power given to man over the lower animals, and should 
leave the heron to its fate. But, believing that the office of the 
heron is to correct the mischiefs arising from the super-fecundi¬ 
ty of fish, and to make that food more useful to man, I became 
its advocate. 

“My case will chiefly rest upon the structure of the heron, 
the locality in which it feeds, and its mode of fishing. As to 
the formation: the legs are bare, about ten inches long, pro¬ 
tected by strong scales; above the joint two inches of the thigh 
bone are bare. It has four claws without any sign of web upon 
them, so that the bird is, in nature, what the naturalists call a 
wader. With this provision he can go about twelve inches 
deep into the water without wetting his feathers. Thus, the 
heron can go into the water to the depth of about twelve in¬ 
ches, and, at that depth, catch the fish as it approaches, still 
keeping the feathers dry. In its fishing position, the tips of the 
wing feathers reach to the bottom of the tail feathers, and 
seem as if blended with them. They extend as nearly as pos¬ 
sible the length of the leg from the water, so that if the heron 
goes in only to that depth, those feathers are scarcely touched. 
If it goes in to the depth of the middle of the thigh, then an 
inch or two of those feathers would be wetted, but as these 


BARTHOMLEY. 


211 


feathers are twelve inches from its body, the body is kept dry, 
and in flying out of the water the ends of the tail feathers and 
the tips of the wings become immediately dry. For a water-bird 
notoriously feeding on fish, these are remarkable provisions of 
an Almighty and All-wise Providence, and evidently prove that 
the heron is not intended to swim, hut to seek its food in very 
shallow water. The localities , therefore, for its feeding are the 
margins of ponds, &c. On arriving at the feeding place, the 
heron uniformly alights upon the land, from the fear of wetting 
its feathers, and then slowly paces into the water up to the leg- 
joint, or to the middle of the thigh. It immediately places it¬ 
self in position facing the pool, the neck is stretched out, and 
the point of the bill brought down close to the water. In this 
situation it remains perfectly motionless, and with exemplary 
patience awaits its prey. When the fish approaches, the heron 
places itself in the attitude of a pointer dog with a partridge 
under its nose in the stubble, the splash is then made, and the 
prey is taken. The fishing season begins as soon as the warmth 
of the weather causes the pond weeds to begin to vegetate; ge¬ 
nerally towards the end of February, or early in March. Then 
on a sunshiny day, the fry of the fish of the two former years, 
leaving the deeper waters, begin to seek the shallow margins, to 
bask in the sun, to seek for food, or for both those purposes. 
In their approach they come within the fishing depth of the 
heron. He then pounces upon them, generally with success. 
He either eats his prey upon the spot, or, in the breeding sea¬ 
son, flies off with it to the nest. He afterwards seeks a new lo¬ 
cality, as that place is disturbed for a time; there the same pro¬ 
cess is carried on till the work of the day is finished, which, as 
far as I can judge, is seldom equal to the task which, as a cor¬ 
rector of the evils of super-fecundity, the heron is required to 
perform. As to the size and quality of the fish so taken, they 
can only be the small fry of the indigenous fish of the pools, 
and in a state in which they would be of little or no value as 
the food of man. Therefore, I think I have, in a small com- 


212 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


pass, given an answer to many charges against the heron, and 
have shewn that his life ought not to he sought, for the reasons 
generally assigned against him. 

“ In the mode of his fishing, as just described, it is very im¬ 
probable that any thing like a meat fish should come within his 
reach, nor do we know what injury it would receive if it did. 
The trout is the fish most likely to come upon the shallows 
within the limits of the heron’s fishing, but he is then seeking 
for his hold, where he is perfectly safe. In their natural habi¬ 
tats, the trout have always these places of refuge. Narrow and 
shallow brooks, which are without these holds for the fish to 
resort to, will be liable to the attacks of the heron, but these 
ought not to be considered as trout streams, and the owner 
ought to guard his fish in such localities by putting large 
stones, roots of trees, or strong oak faggots, at certain distances 
at the edges of the water. The heron may be charged with de¬ 
stroying the fish in the smaller ponds so common throughout 
the country, to which, from my own experience, I shall make 
some defence. 

“In pits and pools, not having water deeper than that at 
which the herons can fish, the frosts of winter will prevent 
there being any fish at all. In ponds having a greater depth, it 
will be said the fish, coming to the sides within the heron’s 
reach, will be destroyed. To this objection, I shall, from per¬ 
sonal knowledge, make the following observations. In general, 
such ponds, as soon as vegetation begins, are full of weeds, even 
to the borders, and these weeds are a protection from the he¬ 
rons. I have several ponds of this description a very short 
distance from the heronry. In these I breed tench for stocking 
my pool. Every third year I let off these ponds, and take some 
hundred brace of fry tench for the supply of the pool, just of 
the size that the herons would covet if they could get at them. 
I do not deny, that, in some localities, the herons may destroy 
the fish that would be useful to man; but my conviction is, that 
by destroying the small fish at the margins of the water, they 


BARTHOMLEY. 


213 


fulfil their main office, and, by helping to bring down the num¬ 
bers to the supply of food, are beneficial to man, and deserve 
his protection. I believe you are perfectly aware of the general 
management of my pool. Its chief stock is perch, and it has 
been customary to let off the water at certain periods, the prin¬ 
cipal object being to destroy the indescribable number of small 
fish that are generated there. All the perch are taken out, and 
the small ones are intended to be extirpated, but it has been 
foimd that a sufficient number is left to store the pool again. 
Whilst the perch are increasing up to the food, their growth and 
condition are surprising. After two years growth they come 
into use, and in the fourth year are excellent. 

“At that time the myriads bred in the former years get up to 
the supply of food, and quickly overtake it. All then is mis¬ 
chief, the good fish are impoverished, the small perch still in¬ 
crease in numbers, but do not increase in size above that of the 
fry of the first or second year. Our herons do their best, but I 
not believe that five times their number would keep down the 
small fish to the level of the supply of food. To destroy them 
by fine meshed nets would be very troublesome and expensive, 
so that in every fish concern of this description, when the small 
and worthless fish begin to interfere with their betters, the wa¬ 
ter should be let off, and the fish sorted and drafted, so as to 
leave the better fish in a growing state. The beau-ideal of a 
country establishment would be to have a heronry that would 
keep the fish down to the equilibrium. This would be a beau¬ 
tiful and useful combination, but of difficult achievement. We 
hear that the, establishment of heronries is becoming fashion¬ 
able, the project being possible, fashion and wealth will go a 
great way in making things possible to be things practicable. I 
shall conclude this account of the herons with a sketch of the 
general proceedings of an inland heronry. 

“In the winter months the frost would so frequently deprive 
them of food, that, late in the autumn, they retire to the sea¬ 
side, and find resting places in its vicinity, a few at a time 
occasionally visiting the heronry. 


214 


BARTHOMLEY. 


“At low water they find plenty of food upon the sands, and 
in the puddles left when the tide is out, which are, for the most 
part, within the fishing depths of the herons. There they get 
small fish, flounders, shrimps, cockles, muscles, &c. In the 
spring they return to the heronry, and their appearance is one 
of the surest signs that the winter is over. 

“In 1854, I first saw them on the 2nd of February; this 
year (1855), they did not arrive till the 4th of March, when four 
were seen. They begin immediately to make their nests, in 
order to have strong-winged birds for the autumn, and although 
they encounter much bad weather during their incubation, they 
generally bring up from three to five young ones, which is 
about the average number of eggs they lay. They frequently 
place their nests near together on the same tree, and seem to 
form an amicable community. In the autumn, a day or two 
before their departure, they all assemble, form a circle in the 
air, and fly about in rings, gradually rising to a great height. 
This, I think, is to try the power of the young ones, and whe¬ 
ther they can fly as far as the estuaries of the Dee, or the Mer¬ 
sey, a distance of thirty or forty miles, but the nearest point at 
which, in winter, they can get their daily'food. A day or two 
after this trial of their strength, the old herons depart with as 
many young ones as are able to take a long flight. Such as are 
not yet strong enough stay a little time behind the rest. The 
autumnal departure is no doubt, in some measure, dependent 
upon the time of their appearance in the spring.” 

Thanks to Mr. Toilet for his “Apology,” which, we hope, 
may carry conviction to the minds of many. We are all too 
apt to overlook the office of every creature in the economy of 
creation; and, in consequence, we rashly sacrifice many a true 
friend to what we conceive to be our own interests. Naturalists 
have proved how useful, even to the farmer who seeks its de¬ 
struction, the rook is; and it is a further step in the knowledge 
of natural history to know, from Mr. Toilet’s observations, the 
place which the heron occupies in nature’s plan. The religious 


BARTHOMLEY. 


215 


spirit which pervades his treatise greatly enhances its value. In 
these days of scepticism and indifference, it is no little satisfac¬ 
tion to find one in the vale of years, and with so much experience, 
appealing to the wisdom of Divine Providence, and practically 
inculcating the adoring sentiment,—“ 0 Lord, how manifold are 
thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full 
of thy riches.” 

I must not omit to mention, that the previous communica¬ 
tions, so fresh and vigorous in style, are from the pen of one 
who has nearly completed his 88th year. 

The heronry in the north of Lancashire, to which Mr. Toilet 
has alluded in the beginning of our correspondence, belonged 
to the late Thomas Wilson Ffrance, Esq., of Bawcliffe Hall. 
When on a visit there, I remarked a singular habit of his he¬ 
rons, which, I was told, was a constant one. Every morning, 
before departing to their daily avocations, they assemble in a 
large field near their abode, and form a circle, within which a 
few grave seniors are placed, who seem to engage in common 
council, after which, a signal being given by a low guttural 
murmur, all wing their way to their respective appointments. 
This conclave is also held in the evening, before they retire to 
roost. Bawcliffe Hall is at a short distance from the sea, con¬ 
sequently, the herons have not far to roam for food, and return 
every night to their domiciles, all the year round. Where the 
herons remain throughout the year, tfie trees they inhabit are 
seriously injured; at least, they were so at Bawcliffe; notwith¬ 
standing, Mr. Wilson Ffrance did not disturb them, considering 
his heronry an appendage to the old manor-house, and rarely to 
be found in England. 


Yours, &c. 



210 


BARTHOMLEY. 


LETTEB XYII. 


MY DEAR BOY. 

approach my present subject with more than or¬ 
dinary zest: from relationship to the owner of 
Crewe; from early and intimate acquaintance 
with its scenes; from a heartfelt obligation to 
one who bore its title, and is gone; this township has many 
points of interest for me, often thought on, and never cloying 
“the hungry edge of appetite.” 

The ancient name of Crewe was Criwa, Saxon. The Dooms¬ 
day survey contains, as far as I can discover, the first notice of 
the township, from which we learn, that, at the time in which 
the survey was made, it belonged to Eichard de Vernon, Baron 
of Shipbrook:— 

“Isdem Ricardus tenet Creu, Osmer tenuit: ibi una Izida 
geldabilis: terra est n carucarum: ibi est unus radman, et units 
villanus, et n bordarii cum una earned: ibi una acra et dimidia 
prati. Silva una leuva longa et dimidia lata. Tempore R. 
Edwardi valebat x solidos, modo v solidos. Wasta invenitur.” 

Ormerod is of opinion, that “subsequent to this, Crewe 
(probably by some early exchange) became a component 
portion of the barony of Wich Malbank; and the inquisition 
taken 16 Edw. I., relative to the first division of the barony, 
mentions that the homage and services of the lords of Crewe 
were allotted to the eldest coheir of that house, Philippa Bas¬ 
set.” 1 He also states, “the original grant of Crewe to its mesne 
lords has not occurred in any of the Cheshire collections. They 

1 Ormerod’s History of Cheshire, vol. iii, p. 165. 





BARTHOMLEY. 


217 


are traditionally said to be a branch of the Montalt family, and 
have borne, from an early period (but not uniformly,) the arms 
of that house undifferenced.” 

I shall not deviate from my plan, if I say a word or two 
of the family of Montalt. The head of the barony of Monte- 
alto, or Montalt, was situate, not in Cheshire, but in North 
Wales, and its seats were at Mold 1 and Hawarden 3 : the first is 
razed to the ground, but a small mount, planted with trees, 
probably marks the site of the keep-tower; the ruins of the se¬ 
cond remain, and are a picturesque feature of the park of Sir 
Stephen Glynne, Bart. 

The first possessor of the barony was a Norman, his name de 
Mara; a better sounding name than that harsh monosyllable, 
Crewe, and which makes one regret that the first Baron Crewe, 
when raised to the peerage, did not look back into the annals of 

1 “ At the north end of the town stands the mount, to which it owes the British 
and Latin names, Y r ■ Wyddgrug , and Mons Altus , the lofty or conspicuous mount.... 
The first certain account I have of this place is in the reign of William Rufus, when 
we find it in possession of Eustace Cruer, who then did homage for Mold and Hope- 
dale; he, probably, having been the person who had ravished them from the 
antient owners. In the end of the reign of Henry /., or the beginning of that 
of Stephen, Robert, called from his residence at this place, de Monte-alto, high 
steward of Chester, and one of the Barons of the Norman Earls, became owner of 

it. ( Matthew Paris and Dugdale confound it with Hawarden .) Mold continued 

in possession of the posterity of Robert, who did homage for it in 1302, at Chester, 
to Edward Prince of Wales ; but in 1327, the last Baron, in default of male issue, 
conveyed it to Isabel, queen of Edward II. for life, and afterwards to John of El- 
tham, younger brother to Edward III.; who died without issue, and his possessions 
reverted to the crown.” 

2 Hawarden. On the Conquest, it was comprehended in the vast grant made to 
Hugh Lupus. It afterwards devolved to the Barons of Monte-Alto, or Mold, which 
they held by Stewardship to the Earls of Chester, and made it their residence.... 
On the extinction of the antient Earls of Chester, to prevent that honor from 
being, according to the expression at the time, parcelled out among distaffs, this, 

as well as the other fortresses, were resumed by the Crown.In 1267, in 

the pacification brought about by the Pope’s legate Ottoboni, between Henry and 
Llewelyn, among other articles, Llewelyn agrees to restore to Robert de Montalto his 
lands in Hawarden. We find nothing more of this place till the year 1327, the first 
of Edward III., when Robert, the last Baron of Montalt, for want of issue, passed this 
manor, and his other great possessions, to Isabel, the queen-mother.— Pennant's 
Tour in Wales. 4to. 1784. 




218 


BARTHOMLEY. 


liis ancestry, and choose de Mara for his title. Hugo de Mara was 
the Norman grantee of the Cheshire possessions of the barons of 
Montalt, which were originally inconsiderable, and among which 
Orewe is not specified. “This Hugh,” says Ormerod, 1 “occurs 
twice in the foundation charter of the Abbey of St. Werburgh, 
first under the name of Fitz-Norman, and in a subsequent grant, 
recited in that charter, under the name of de Mara....It is, how¬ 
ever, certain that the possessions of Hugh de Mara, and the office 
of Dapifer, or Seneschal of the earldom, were united in the next 
generation, in Robert de Montalt, who, by Dugdale and other 
authorities, is stated to be son of Ralph, brother of Hugh Fitz- 
Norman, and who assumed the name of his castle of Montalt, or 
Mold.” Ormerod proceeds to give a further account of the fa¬ 
mily, and a short pedigree of it, to which I beg to refer you. 8 

The Crewe claim of descent from the de Mara family is 
founded on tradition, and on their crest and arms: the arms of 
de Mara were—Azure, a lion rampant Argent. Crest—On a 
wreath a lion’s gamb erect and erased Argent, grasping an oak 
branch Vert, acorns Or. The arms of Crewe, of Crewe, are— 
Azure, a lion rampant Argent. Crest—A lion’s gamb erect Ar¬ 
gent, issuing from a ducal coronet. In fche arms , there is no 
variation; in the crest , a slight one; the lion’s gamb does not, 
in that of Crewe, grasp an oak branch, and it Issues from a du¬ 
cal coronet, not from a wreath. You may, perhaps, hear, as I 
have heard, the Crewe crest called the hear's paw: it is a 
mistake; it is a lions paw. Having said thus much on this 
point of descent, which, at the best, remains uncertain, I will 
go on to what is more easy of proof. 

(!•) ‘Henry de Criwa’ is the first of the name and place that 
is known. He attests a deed of William Malbank, which, Or¬ 
merod very justly remarks, “must have been executed about 
the middle of the 12th century,” (in the reign of Henry II.,) 
“by the names of the witnesses: Nicholas Fitz-William; Regi¬ 
nald Fitz-Herchenbald, seneschal of the barony of Wich-Mal- 

1 Vol. i, p. 53. 2 History of Cheshire, vol. i, pp. 53, 54, and 55. 


BARTHOMI^Y. 


219 


bank; Roger Fitz-Odard Adam; Fitz-Liulph de Aldithley; 
Alured de Cumbray; Roger his son, and others.” 1 

(II.) Sir Thomas de Crue, knight, next appears in a charter 
“ witnessed by William de Wistaneston, Roger le Bresci, and 
others.” Dugdale makes him son of the foregoing Henry; 2 but, 
most probably, he was grandson, if the dates of 26-51 Henry 
III. are correct. 

(III.) His son, Thomas, succeeded him: a deed, without date, 
granting to Patric, his son, and, Margaret, his wife, lands and 
messuages in Aston, testifies to this; the seal, checquy, the 
spaces between the intersections filled up with quatre-foils. 
He was twice married: by his first wife, Margaret, he had one 
daughter, Sybilla; by his second wife, Agnes, he had—(1,) 
Thomas, his successor; (2) David, ancestor of Crue, of Holt; 
(3) Nicholas, (4) Patric, ancestor of the Crewes, of Pulcroft, and 
of Sound: and (5) William, from whom the Crewes, of Aston 
in Mondrem, are descended. Their names are to be found in 
deeds in the MS. collection of Crewe Evidences. 

(IV.) Thomas de Crewe, son and heir of Thomas, married 

Amicia, daughter of-. He died 21 Edward I, 1293, leaving 

three daughters, and co-heiresses: Joan, or Johanna, aged 22 
years; Amicia, aged 4 years; and Eleanor, two and a half. 

Joan married Richard Praers, of Bartliomley, and had two 
sons, Randle and Thomas. Randle died without issue. Thomas 
had a daughter and heir, Elizabeth, who married Sir Robert 
Fulleshurst, and brought to him Bartliomley and Crewe, and 
other estates, of whom, and whose family, I have already 
spoken, under the head of Bartliomley. Crewe, therefore, 
passed, on the marriage of Joan Crewe to Richard Praers, from 
the bearers of the name of Crewe to the name of Praers, and, 
afterwards, to that of Fulleshurst; and, for the space of about 
three hundred years, from 22 Edward I to the end of Eliza¬ 
beth, or the beginning of James’s reign, it was not connected 
with a family of the name of Crewe at all. 

1 MS. Collection of Crewe Evidences, communicated by Lord Crewe. 

2 See the beautiful illuminated vellum pedigree in the archives at Crewe Hall. 



220 


B^RTHOMLEY. 


About this last-mentioned period Crewe came into the 
possession of that great and good man, who had the proud 
satisfaction of conferring on his name and family, a dig¬ 
nity and fame which no member of it, before or since, has 
reached; and of purchasing the hall and estates 1 which, centu¬ 
ries back, were the property of his ancestors,—I mean Sir 
Ranulphe Crewe; who may, most justly, be called the re-found¬ 
er of the family, and to whom the present possessor of the name 
and estates owes the honour, wealth, and position he enjoys. 

It would be too great an assumption, in letters like these, to 
aim at Biography; and, so far as regards Sir Banulphe Crewe, 
he may be safely left in the hands of the present Lord Chief Jus¬ 
tice of the Queen’s Bench—Lord Campbell, whose “ Lives of the 
Chief Justices of England” will always be consulted with defer¬ 
ence and interest, and from them, I have his lordship’s permis¬ 
sion, granted in the kindest terms, to take what may serve my 
purpose, in putting together the following memoir of Sir Ban¬ 
ulphe Crewe. 

The town of Nantivich claims to be the birth-place of Sir 
Banulphe: a circumstance which is put forth in a couplet , 2 well 
known in Cheshire:— 

“ Crewe, of Crewe Hall, the Lord of this Manor, 

Bom at Nantwich, the son of a Tanner.” 

1 The learned Sir Edward Coke, Kt., Chief Justice of England, temp. James /., 
in right of his second wife, the celebrated lady Elizabeth Hatton, who, according to 
her ladyship’s own statement, took him the immense fortune of one hundred and 
sixty thousand pounds, owned Crewe and Barthomley estates from 1598 to 1608, in 
which latter year Sir Ranulphe Crewe acquired them by purchase from Sir Edward 
Coke, his lady, and several of the Lord Chancellor Hatton’s family, in whose favour 
those estates were settled after the death of lady Elizabeth, who was the widow of 
Sir William Hatton, alias Newport, nephew of the Lord Chancellor who purchased 
the same estates from Fulleshurst, the last possessor thereof of that name.—The In¬ 
formation of Mr. Jones. 

“When the marriage articles between Sir Edward Coke and the Lady Hatton, 
which were drawn up by the direction of the Privy Council, were executed, a certi¬ 
ficate of the same was presented to the King, signed by Serjeant Ranulphe Crewe, 
Robert Hitcham, and by the Attorney-General Yelverton.” 

2 Another version is as follows:_ 

“ Sir Randle Crewe, the Lord of this Manor, 

Was born at Nantwich, the son of a Tanner.’’ 


BARTHOMLEY. 


221 


Whether this was his father’s trade, or merely—what we used 
to call at Westminster school—a botch, to make a rhyme, I 
cannot, nor can any one, tell, I believe. But these are ques¬ 
tions of small moment; and it is no disgrace, but an honour, to 
rise from a humble station, to wealth and greatness, if the means 
thereto be creditable: in this particular we need not be ashamed 
“to look at the rock whence we are hewn, or the hole of the pit 
whence we are digged.” 

Sir Banulphe was the second 1 son of John Crewe, of Nant- 
wich, by Alice, daughter of Humphrey Mainwaring. He had 
three sons and two daughters: John, born March 10, 1555, and 
who died without offspring; Lucretia, Prudence, Banulphe, 
Thomas. The four last only were named on a monument, 
erected by Sir Banulphe to the memory of his father, which no 
longer exists, but was once at the higher end of the church of 
Nantwich, on the south side of the wall; it had been thrown 
down, and, it is stated, was subsequently discovered, in frag¬ 
ments, by Pennant; sculptured upon it was a figure, in a robe, 
kneeling under an arch, over which were the arms of Crewe, 
and underneath those of Crewe impaling Mainwaring; it bore 
this inscription:— 

Johannes Crewe 

EX ANTIQUA FAMILIA DE CREWE 
ORIENDUS, VIR PIUS, 

SUSCEPTAM EX ALICIA 

Maynwaring uxore reliquit 

SOBOLEM, R/ANULPHUM, 

Thomam, Lucretiam, Prudentiam, 

Yixit annos 74 . 

OB1LT ANNO DOMINI 1598 . 

Lucretia married John Southerne, of Fitz, in the county 
of Salop; Prudence died unmarried. Of Thomas I shall have 
to speak in another letter. 

Banulphe was baptized 10th Jan., 1558, which year we may 
presume to have been that of his birth. There is no tradition 

1 Lord Campbell says the eldest son; a trifling oversight. 


222 


BARTHOMLEY. 


where his early youth was passed; probably in his native town, 
under the auspices of his father, and educated at the grammar- 
school of that place. He was a lad of more than common ability, 
and his father resolved, at once, to afford him scope for its exer¬ 
cise, and brought him up to the bar. Many a fond hope of his 
son’s future greatness seems to have occupied the father’s heart. 
At this time the Fulleshurst’s family—now in possession of the 
Crewe estates—was on the wane; and it might be, that “ sha¬ 
dows of coming events” flitted before the Tanner, and pointed 
to the probable chance of the recovery of the manor of Crewe, 
through the talents and industry of his children; at least, this 
was the object of his ambition; and frequently did he talk to 
his sons of the former wealth and greatness of their ancestors, 
and urge them to diligence and study, by holding, continually, 
before them the visionary prospect of becoming Crewes of 
Crewe. Seldom are we enabled to point to “castles built in the 
air,” brought down and fixed on solid earth, and realized like 
his: the sequel of our memoir will shew how, to the very letter, 
John Crewe’s desires, or dreams , if you will, were accomplish¬ 
ed. In 1597, the year before the old man died, he had the 
proud satisfaction of seeing the first-fruits bf his son’s industry 
and talents, in his election as one of the representatives for 
Brackley, co. of Northampton, which took place Oct. 24th, 39 
Elizabeth; an event which must have gratified his father in no 
small degree, and held out to him an earnest of his son’s future 
career, and of the probable fulfilment of his own hopes. 

In 1602 we find Ranulphe studying at Lincoln’s Inn, of 
which he is justly regarded as one of its brightest ornaments. 
In the books there are the following entries respecting him, 
marking the several stages of his career there:— 

“ Cestr. Radulphus Crewe admiss est in societate ibm deeimo tertio die 
Novembris Anno regni Reginae Elizabeth deeimo nono ad instanc Riclii 
Wilbraham et Lawrencij Woodnett manuc — 

“ Octo die Novembris Anno regni Elizabethe vicesimo sexto 

“ It is orderede that theise gentlemen hereafter namede shalbe called to 
the utter barre, vid. Mr. Jones and Mr. Sidleye and they to be called at the 


BARTHOMLEY. 


223 


nexte moote in the hall the savinge of auncientye of Mr. Jonnes and Mr 
Sidleye to the utter barrestors that have not mooted. And Mr. Molton and 
Mr. Crewe to he called to the barre the firste moote the nexte terme.” 

“ Lyncolnes Inne. Ad Consilium ihm tent tertio die Novembris anno 
Rmae Eliz.: c* quadragessimo scdo. 1600. 

“ Yt ys ordered that Mr. Edward Skepwyth Mr. James Leighe and Mr. 
Randophe Crewe shalbe called to the Benche and be published at the 
next pleading of the next whole Moote in the Hall. 

“Lincolnes Inne. Ad Consilium ibm tent nono die Maij anno r. 
B nae Dnse Elizabethe z xliiij* 0 1602. 

“ Att this Counsell Mr. Bandolphe Crewe is elected and chosen to be 
reader the next somer and is to have such allowances as the last somer 
reader hadd, and Mr. Gellybrand and Mr. Christopher are elected to be 
Stewardes of the Beader’s Dynner.” 

Ranulphe is now called to the bar, the first great step of his 
mission. His father lived not to witness this; the grave had 
closed over him four years before; hut the son did not forget the 
mark of the prize, to which he had been continually pressed for¬ 
ward by him, and put forth every talent he possessed to reach 
it. Lord Campbell says—“ He made himself a deep black-letter 
lawyer.” His ready elocution, coupled with discretion and suc¬ 
cess in causes intrusted to him, brought him extensive business 
from the first; whilst a careful economy, without penury, helped 
to fill his coffers, and provide him means for the undertaking 
his father planned, and which he himself resolved to carry out 
when opportunity offered. Rapid, indeed, was his progress. 

In 1614 he had acquired such distinction, that, a parliament 
being called, in the hope of obtaining a supply, the tanner’s son 
of Nantwich was, without solicitation, returned to the House of 
Commons as member for his proud native county, and at the 
opening of the session was elected Speaker. 1 Browne Willis is 
of opinion (although the return has been lost,) that he was, at 
the same time, again elected one of the members for the repre¬ 
sentation of Brackley. 

1 1614, April 7th, An: 12 James I.—“Accordingly, on that day, the Commons 
presented Sir Ranulphe Crewe, Kt., as their Speaker, who was introduced to the 
King by Sir Ralph Winwood, Kt., principal Secretary to his Majesty, and Sir Julius 
Caesar, Kt., Chancellor of the Exchequer. 


224 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Be this as it may, we find him, as Speaker, demanding the 
privileges of the Commons, when he delivered an address to the 
King, which was admirably suited to please the royal vanity. 
With sly tact, he alluded to his majesty’s descent from Cerdic, 
the Saxon, as well as William the Conqueror, and the Scottish 
monarchs, whom he carried hack nearly tb the flood; perhaps, 
if, like the French marquis, who gratified his own genealogical 
pride, by causing a picture of one of his ancestors to be paint¬ 
ed, dressed in the bagwig, and buckle, and sword costume of 
a century ago, tripping lightly into the ark with a pedigree roll 
under his arm, he had gone beyond the flood, his majesty would 
have been better pleased; nevertheless, he was highly delighted 
with this pedigree, and expressed his satisfaction that the Com¬ 
mons had made so good a choice. 1 

The Speaker’s chair was not an easy one to Ranulphe 
Crewe. A supply, sought for by the King, was not granted by 
the parliament. The country party boldly clamoured of their 
grievances; the two houses of parliament quarrelled about a 
speech made by the Bishop of Lincoln, derogatory to the digni¬ 
ty of the Commons; the King blamed the Speaker; the Speak¬ 
er defended himself, by declaring that lie could do nothing 
more to further the King’s business, without trenching on those 
privileges which it was his duty to uphold; and the King, at the 
end of a few weeks of altercation, dissolved the parliament; 
after which, on June 8th, Ranulphe Crewe was Knighted. This 
dissolution was a consummation, if not devoutly wished for by 
Ranulphe Crewe, yet in exact accordance with his own feelings. 
He was a man of peace , and unfitted for the jars and turmoils, 
and contradiction and struggles of those days; and glad was 

1 In a M.S., in the British Museum, relating to the election and parliament of 
1614, there are letters of Mr. Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, and of others: 
“March 17. Ranulph Crew is already designed Speaker.” “April 7. Ranulph 
Crew was chosen Speaker without any contradiction, being nominated and recom¬ 
mended by Mr. Secretary (Winwood), who made a fit speech for that purpose.” 
“April 14, The Speaker was presented on Thursday, and made a very orderly and 
convenient speech.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


225 


he to retire from parliamentary troubles, to devote himself ex¬ 
clusively to his own profession, and reap its golden fruits. 

In 16J4 1 he took upon himself the degree of Serjeant-at-law, 
and soon afterwards became King’s Serjeant. On the 7th of 
August, 1615, he appeared at Taunton Assizes, to give evi¬ 
dence against the ill-used, tortured Peacham, who was arraign¬ 
ed for liigh-treason:— 

“ 7th August, 1615, an'o 13 Jacobi. Edmund Pecham was arraigned and 
found guilty of high treason, before Sir Christopher Tanfield and Seijeant 
Montague, at Taunton assizes, for divers things contained in a book of his 
against the King’s person and the privy counsellors. Sir Randall Crewe, 
the King’s Seijeant, and Sir Henry Yelverton, the King’s Solicitor, came 
purposely down from London to give evidence in the behalf of the King 
against him. It is said that Pecham wrote a book against abuses in the Ec¬ 
clesiastical Court by Doctor James, and against the Bishop of Bath and 
Wells, Doctor Montague, brother to the Serjeant.” 2 

Sir Kanulphe refused to accept a seat in the parliament 
which met in January, 1621. 

In 1623-24 he appears as Attorney-General, conducting the 
prosecution, opened by Sir Edward Coke, and Sir Edwin San- 
dys, on the part of the House of Commons, against Sir Lionel 
Cranfield (Earl of Middlesex), the Lord High Treasurer, for 
high crimes and misdemeanours in the execution of his office, 

1 July 1, 12. James I, 

2 Diary of Walter Yonge, Esq., Justice of the Peace, and M.P. for Honiton,^- 
Edited by George Roberts, for the Camden Society. 

“This old Somersetshire minister had attracted attention by preaching puritani, 
cally, with some intemperance perhaps. His study having been broken into, a ser¬ 
mon or treatise in MS. was found, which had never been preached, nor, probably, 
was ever intended to be preached. The King’s fondness for dogs, dances, banquets, 
and costly dresses, and the frauds and oppressions practised by his government and 
officers, found a place' in it. There was likewise a passage about the * King being 
stricken with death on the sudden, or within eight days, as Ananias or Nabal.' 
James insisted that the offence amounted to high treason. Coke took it to be a 
criminal slander, but not treason. Sir Francis Bacon drew up certain questions, 
which were put to our aged West-countryman before torture, during torture, between 
torture, and after torture11 Within twelve years from this date, torture was abolished. 
Edmund Peacham’s case was one of the worst of this reign. Judge Hobart being 
about to ride the western circuit, (judges did not use coaches at that time,) Peacham 
was sent into Somersetshire to be tried. He was condemned, but died in prison.”— 
(Note by the Editor of the Diary.) 


226 


BARTHOMLEY. 


when that infamous delinquent was convicted of corruption and 
extortions surpassing, it is stated, all that had ever been 
brought to light against any government officer under the 
monarchy. 

For a time we hear nothing further of Sir Ranulphe Crewe 
in public life, until the resignation, by Sir James Ley, of the 
office of Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, drew him from re¬ 
tirement. A good lawyer was demanded by the public voice, to 
supply the vacancy; and all looked to Serjeant Ranulphe Crewe 
as the fitting man. On the 26th of January, 1625, he took his 
seat as Chief Justice of the Court of King’s Bench. Lord 
Campbell remarks— 

“There was never a more laudable appointment, and he even exceeded 
the sanguine expectations that had been entertained of his fitness. To learn¬ 
ing hardly inferior to that of Coke, and to equal independence of mind, he 
added—what Coke wanted so much—patience in hearing, evenness of tem¬ 
per, and kindness of heart.” 

After the death of James he was re-appointed to the office, 
and discharged its duties with increasing reputation. The de¬ 
cisions of Lord Chief Justice Crewe are extremely numerous; 
but one of his recorded judgments is especially worthy of atten¬ 
tion, and, “as a true specimen of English eloquence in the 17th 
century, will continue to be read and recited as long as we are a 
nation.” This judgment related to the claims of Robert de Yere 
and Lord Willoughby de Eresby, to the earldom of Oxford. The 
case was referred to the House of Peers, who called the Judges 
to their assistance. Lord Chief Justice Crewe spoke as follows, 
delivering the opinion of his learned brothers and his own:— 

“This great and weighty cause, incomparable to any other of the sort 
that hath happened at any time, requires much deliberation and solid and 
mature judgment to determine it. Here is represented to your Lordships 
‘certamen honoris ,’ illustrious honour. I heard a great peer of this realm 
and a learned say when he lived, ‘there is no King in Christendom hath 
such a subject as Oxford.’ And well might this be said, for De Yere came in 
with the Conqueror, being then Earl of Guynes; shortly after the Conquest, 
he was made Great Chamberlain by Henry I. the Conqueror’s son, above 
500 years ago. By Maud the Empress, he was created Earl of Oxford, the 
grant being Alberico Comiti, so that he was clearly an Earl before. He was 


BARTHOMLEY. 


227 


confirmed and approved by Henry Fitz-Empress, Henry II. This great hon¬ 
our, this high and noble dignity, hath continued ever since in the remarka¬ 
ble surname of De Vere, by so many ages, descents, and generations, as no 
other kingdom can produce such a peer in one and the self-same name and 
title. I find in all this time but two attainders of this noble family, and 
those in stormy times, when the government was unsettled, and the kingdom 
in competition. 

“I have laboured to make a covenant with myself, that affection may not 
press upon judgment; for I suppose there is no man that hath any appre¬ 
hension of gentry or nobleness, but his affection stands to the continuance 
of a house so illustrious, and would take hold of a twig or twine thread to up¬ 
hold it. And yet time hath his revolutions; there must be a period and an 
end to all temporal things —finis rerum —an end of names and dignities, and 
whatsoever is terrene; and why not of De Vere?—for where is Bohun? 
"Whereis Mowbray? Where is Mortimer? Nay, which is more, and most of 
all, where is Plantagenet? They are entombed in the urns and sepulchres of 
mortality! Yet, let the name of De Vere stand so long as it pleaseth God.” 

These are the words not only of an eloquent , but a thoroughly 
conscientious man, determined to be just at the expense of taste 
and feeling. The natural bias of his mind, which was deeply 
imbued with his favourite study of genealogy and heraldry, in¬ 
clined him to the claim of Robert De Yere; and, happily, this 
coincided with the strictest right. The Lords were guided by 
his opinion, and Robert De Yere became Earl of Oxford. 

Soon was the high probity of Sir Ranulplie’s character to be 
tried. The contest between kingly prerogative and constitu¬ 
tional popular right had begun. 1 Charles was resolved to take 

1 The origin of the great measure for levying ship money, which was the first 
great cause leading the King to his fatal end, is given thus clearly and briefly by 
Echard:— 

“The King, finding himself under various Difficulties, advis’d with his Council 
by what Means and Ways he might be speedily furnish’d under these Emergencies. 
After several Days’ Consultation, they came to this Resolution, ‘ That the Urgency 
of Affairs not admitting the Way of Parliament, the most speedy, equal, and conve¬ 
nient Means were by a General Loan from the Subject, according as every Man was 
assess’d in the Rolls of the last Subsidy.’ Upon which Result, Letters of Commis¬ 
sion were issu’d out, bearing Date the 13th of Oct r> (1626,) directed to certain Lor^s, 
Knights & Gentlemen in their several Counties: In which they were required to ac- 
qaint the People, ‘That, &c., &c.,’ particularising the grounds and the urgency 
which wou’d not give leave to the calling of a Parliament, &c., and requiring them 
to pay their several proportions; ‘which shou’d all be faithfully repaid, and shou’d 
not be made a Precedent to charge them or their Posterity.’ 

“The Steps taken to promote the Design, caus’d it to have less Success, and to 


228 


BARTHOMLEY. 


to himself the power of imposing taxes, and of arbitrary impri¬ 
sonment. The aid of the judges was required for this; for Sir 
Thomas Darnel, Sir Edmund Hampden, and others, refused 
to pay the sums assessed upon them by order of the King, and 
were cast into prison, and were about to appeal to the laws for 
the redress of their wrongs. 

The Attorney-General, at this crisis, w T as sent by the govern¬ 
ment to sound Sir Kanulphe Crewe as to his opinions on the 
disputed points; much depended upon the view of the contest 
which the Chief Justice of the King’s Bench might take, and 
great was the surprise and disappointment of King and govern¬ 
ment, when the Chief Justice nobly and positively declared 
that, by the law of England , no tax or talUagc, under whatever 
name or disguise, can be laid upon the people without the autho¬ 
rity of parliament; and that the King cannot imprison any of his 
subjects without a ivarrant specifying the offence with which they 
are charged. This faithful and fearless opinion procured his 
immediate dismissal from his office. At first, his dismissal 
caused no small surprise to the public; Croke, the reporter, 
thus notices it:— 

“Mem. Upon Friday, tlie 10th of November, Sir Randolf Crewe, Chief 
Justice of the King’s Bench, was discharged of that place, by writ under 
the great seal, for some cause of displeasure conceived against him; but for 
what was not generally known.” 

appear more odious. The Commissioners for the Loan met with greater Opposition 
than they expected. Many, who had been members in the two late Parliaments, op¬ 
posed it with their utmost Power. The Benchers of Lincolns-Inn, demurring upon 
it, as not in due Form of Law, receiv’d a Letter of Reproof from the Lords of the 
Council, with a Command to return the names of the Refractory. ‘The common- 
Sort of London, who deny’d the Rates requir’d of them were, by the Council’s War¬ 
rant direct’d to the Commissioners of the Navy, imprest to serve in the Ships ready 
for his Majesty’s Service. And others of them were made to appear before the Lieu¬ 
tenant of the Tower, to be enroll’d among the Land-Forces; with this reason de¬ 
clar’d, ‘That they who refus’d to assist with their Purses, shou’d serve in their Per¬ 
sons, for the Common Defence.’ 

“ The Gentry in several Counties, refusing to subscribe, were bound over by Re¬ 
cognisance to appear at the Council-Table; and upon refusing to comply, were 
many of them committed to Prison, without Benefit of their Habeas Corpus.” 


1 Vide Rushworth. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


229 


It was not long concealed . 1 Fuller writes— 

“King Charles’ occasions calling for speedy supplies of money, some great 
ones adjudged it unsafe to venture on a parliament, for fear, in those distem¬ 
pered times, the physic would side with the disease, and put the king to fur¬ 
nish his necessities by way of loan. Sir Randal, being demanded his judg¬ 
ment of the design, and the consequences thereof (the imprisoning of recu¬ 
sants to pay it), openly manifested his dislike of such preter-legal courses, 
and thereupon, Nov. 9, A.D. 1620, was commanded to forbear his sitting in 
the court, and the next day was, by writ, discharged from his office; whereat 
he discovered no more discontentment than the weary traveller is offended 
when told that he is arrived at his journey’s end.” 

And why should he? He had the answer of a “good con¬ 
science” both towards God and man; and, with a mind like his, 
office, with all its aggrandizements, could never compensate for 

1 I have already quoted from the “Diary of Walter Yonge,” and must not with¬ 
hold a most important statement contained therein, relating to the conduct of Sir 
Ranulphe Crewe, of whom it positively records that he set the example to the other 
Judges in refusing to subscribe to the loan: — 

“ November , 1626 —Sir Randall Crewe put from his place of Lord Chief Justice 
of England, for refusing to subscribe to the loans. After which example all the rest 
of the Judges refused to subscribe likewise.” 

“ December , 1626. —The King having determined, heretofore, to demand of all his 
subjects so much money by way of loan as they are set in subsidy, viz.:—he that’s 
set at £20 in subsidy, to lend unto the King £20 ; the Judges were urged to sub¬ 
scribe. They paid their money, but refused to subscribe the same as a legal course: 
for which Sir Randall Crewe, Chief Justice of England, had his patent taken from 
him, and he was displaced Ter . Michael. 1626, anno 2 Carcli. The Privy Council 
subscribed; the lords and peers subscribed, all except 14, whereof six were earls: 
viz.: Earl of Essex, Earl of Warwick, Earl of Clare, Earl of Huntingdon, Earl of 
Lincoln, and the Earl of Bolingbroke, being Lord St. John. 

*• Chief Justices displaced : 

“ Renowned Cooke, proud Montague, 

Grave Sir James Leigh, and honest Crewe. 

Two were preferred, two set aside, 

And in their room upstart Nicke Hyde.” 2 

(Note by the Editor.)-— Dru Drury, Esquire, repeated some lines, of which these 
are aversion, at Bury Lent Assizes, 1627, so near Sir Nicholas Hyde, then sitting 
on the bench, that some thought he must have heard: 

« Learned Coke, curt Montague, 

The aged Lea, and honest Crew; 

Two preferred, two set aside, 

And then starts up Sir Nicholas Hide.” 


230 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the loss of that. Nevertheless, he could not help, 1 casting one 
longing, lingering look behind’, at the place from which he had 
been so arbitrarily removed. 

Ormerod thinks— 

“The subjoined original letter from Sir Bandulph Crewe to the Duke of 
Buckingham, will, however, shew that the Chief Justice regarded his dismis¬ 
sal with very different feelings from those which Fuller attributes to him. 
The context of the letter will supply the date of the year (1628,) which is defi¬ 
cient; and it appears that he had then confined himself two years to his 
house, to manifest his sense of the royal displeasure; that the object which 
had cheered him through his legal toils was the aggrandisement of his 
family, which he had been fortunate enough to restore to the seat of their 
ancestors; and that he looked back with regret to the profitable exercise of 
his talents at the bar, from which his short-lived employment had removed 
him.” (He was Chief Justice not quite two years.) 

Lord Campbell, however, says— 

“At the end of two years he wrote the following letter to Buckingham, 
which is, I think, most creditable to him; for, notwithstanding his earnest 
desire to be replaced on the bench, he makes no concession or promise at all 
inconsistent with his principles” :— 

“My duty most humbly done to your Grace, 

“Vouchsafe, I beseech your grace, to read the misfortunes of a poor 
man herein, and take them into your noble thoughts, whose case is consi¬ 
derable. I have lived almost two years under the burthen of his Majes¬ 
ties heavy displeasure, deprived of the place I held, and laid aside as a 
person not thoughte of, and unserviceable: whereof I have been soe sen¬ 
sible, that ever since, living at my house att Westminster, I have not sett 
my foot into any other house there, or at London (saveing the house of 
God), but have lived private and retired, as it best became me. 

“I did decline to be of this late Parliament, distrusting I might have been 
called upon to have discovered in the public, the passages concerning the re¬ 
moval from my place, which I was willing should lie lapped up in my own 
bosome. 

“ L likewise took special care if my name were touchit upon in the Comons 
house, that some of my friends there should doe their best to divert any fur¬ 
ther speech of me, for I alvvaies resolved wholly to relie upon the King’s good¬ 
ness, who I did not doubt would take me into his princely thoughts, if 
your grace vouchsafed to intercede for me. The end of the Parliament 1 was 
the time I prefixed myself to be a suitor to your grace, and 1 have now en- 

1 The Parliament was prorogued 26th June, 1628. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


231 


couragement soe to be: the petition of right , whereunto your grace was a 
party* speaks for me, and for the right of my place; but I humbly desire fa¬ 
vour. God doth knowe, it was a great affliction to me to deny any thing 
commanded me, the King that my heart soe loved, and to whom I had been 
soe bound,Prince and King: but had I done it, I had done contrary to 
that all his judges resolved to doe (and I only suffer), and if I had done 
it, and they had deserted me therein, I had become a scorne to men, 
and had been fitt to have lived like a scritch owl in the darke; so likewise 
if I had done it, and had been knowne to have been the leader herein, and 
the rest of the judges had been pressed to have done the like, the blame and 
the reproof would have been laid on me, and by me they might in some 
measure have excused themselves. But yet there was a greater obliga¬ 
tion to restrain me than these (for these be but morall reasons), and that 
was the obligation of an oath, and of a conscience, against both which (then 
holding the place of a judge,) I, in my own understanding, had done, had I 
subscribed my name to the writing, which the King was then advised to re¬ 
quire me to doe, for therein I had approved the com’ission, and consequently 
the proceedings thereupon, wherein here I had been condemned, and with 
how loud and shrill a voice, I leave to your grace to judge. 

“Wherefore, most noble Lord, vouchsafe to weigh these my reasons in 
the ballance of your wisdom and judgement, and be soe noble and just as to 
excuse me to the king herein, and, in a true contemplation of that noblenesse 
and justice, be soe good as to be the means, that I may be really restored to 
the King’s grace and favour. Your grace hath in your hands Achilles’ speare, 
which hurts and heales. I am grievously hurt, your grace hath the means 
to beale me, to whom I make my address. The time is now fitt for me: now 
you are upon a forraigne expedition: you may take my prayers, my wife’s, and 
my children’s with you, and I hope your journey will be the more prosperous. 

“ I am now in the seventieth year of my age; it is the general period of 
man’s life, and my glass runs on apace. Well was it with me when I was 
King’s seijeant, I found profitt by it: I have lost the title and place of Chiefe 
Justice. I am now neither the one or other; the latter makes me unca- 
pable of the former, and since I left the chiefe place, my losse hath been lit¬ 
tle less than 3000Z already. 

“ I was, by your favour, in the way to have raised, and renewed in some 
measure, my poore name and familey; which I will be bold to say, hath here- 
tolore been in the best ranke of the famileys of my countrey; till by a general 
heir the patrimony was carried from the line male into another sirname; and 
since which time it hath been in a weak condition. 

“Your Grace may be the means to repair the breach made in my poor 
fortune, if God soe please to move you, and you will lose no honour bv it. 
Howsoever, I have made my suit to your noblenesse, and your conscience, for 
I appeal to both; and whatsoever my success be, I shall still appear to be a 
silent and a patient man, and humbly submitt myself to the will of God, and 


232 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the King. God be with your grace, He guide and direct you, and to his ho¬ 
ly protection I co’mitt you, resting ever, 

“A most humble servant to your grace, 

“ Westminster, 28th Junii ” “ Ranulphe Crewe. 

A copy of this letter is now in the family archives at Crewe 
Hall. Ormerod says— 

“The honest warmth and simplicity with which Sir Randulpli states these 
feelings to the duke, added to his manly vindication of the conduct which 
had deprived him of a situation which he still clung to the hope of being re¬ 
stored to, could scarcely fail of effect on a mind open to an impartial view of 
his case, and it would seem that the Duke had, for a year, been well disposed 
to him. A note”—(written by Sir John Crewe, of Utkin ton—not by Sir Ran¬ 
ulphe himself, as Lord Campbell states; and to be found at the end of a 
large volume of private genealogical collections, now in possession of Lord 
Crewe,)—“added to the copy of it, states, that‘a little before the D— 
goeing to the isle of Ree, he told Sir Randal, in the presence of the Lord 
Treasurer Weston and Sir Robert Pye, that he would, at his return, right 
him in the king’s favours, for it was he that had injured him, and, therefore, 
was in honour bound to doe it.’ Whether the latter renewed these favourable 
intentions does not appear, but it is certain that, in little more than a month 
after the date of the letter, the arm of Felton 1 prevented the Duke from put¬ 
ting such intentions in practice.” 

After the duke’s death, the following petition was sent by 

Sir Banulphe to the King:— 

“To the Kynge’s most excellent Majestye. 

‘The most humble petition of Syr Ranulphe Crewe, knight. 

“This petitioner served yo r majestyes royall ffather many yeares his ser- 
iant at lawe, in wch tyme he did him faithful service; and therein humbly ap¬ 
peals to yo r ma tie who hath heretofore vouchsafed to take knowledge thereof. 

“His majestye afterwards, out of his gracious favor, made me chiefe jus¬ 
tice, a place never sued for by mee (but sought to be declined), as the Lord 
keeper that now is well knoweth; for I rather desired to continewe his ser- 
iant than to have a judicial place. For the love required by yo r majestye, I, 
and the rest of the judges, sent our moneyes, in the passage whereof I did 
yo r majestie service. 

“That w ch I in all humblenes denyed to doe concerning itt, all the judges 
of England likewise denyed; yett I alone suffred in the losse of my place; 
w ch hath been more than twenty thousand markes out of my wa.y; and wth 
all the losse of my profession, besides the losse of yor maties favor, which was 
much more heavy to mee than all the rest I lost. 

1 “The Duke of Buckingham was killed by Felton the 23rd August, 1628, who 
confessed he was principally moved to that fact lookeing on him as an evill instru¬ 
ment in the commonwealth, and that lie was convinced thereof by the Remonstrance 
of the Parliament Brarvston's Memoirs. 


BAHTHOMLEY. 


233 


“The duke of Buckingham takeing afterwards notice, w th w 4 patience and 
humbleness of submission to the will of God and yo r majestic, I tooke that 
great losse; out of the noblenes of his nature, w tll0Ut intercession by me 
made, fixed his thoughts upon mee, and resolved to use his best means and 
indeavours to yo r ma fe to regayne yo r fav r to mee, and to procure mee ample 
compensacon for my losse; and herein I appeale to my lord of Holland, and 
Sir Robert Pye, and others also can testifie itt. 

“A little before the thread of the duke’s life was lamentably cutt asunder, 
the late Lord treasurer brought me to the duke, being directed soe to doe by 
him, and in the feilds between Westminster and Chelsey meeting with the 
duke, hee and the lord treasurer came out of their coaches, I alone wayting 
on theme, when the duke expressed to the lord treasurer his great care of 
mee, and his resolue 011 by all his endeav rs to reduce me to yor magesties 
fav r , and to gayne a retribuc 00 for mee; and for that his journey wets then 
instant, he desired my lord treasurer to take mee into his speeiall care, and 
charge, in his absence; and tould him he would earnestly move yo r ma tie in 
my behalfe, before he undertooke the expedition intended, and att his return 
would accomplish that for mee, w ek hee resolved to doe, if itt were not done 
by the lord treasurer in the mean tyme. 

“The earle of Holland, and the lord treasurer, being then lord Weston, 
vouchsafed to come to mee severally to my house from the duke, and assured 
mee of the duke’s favour, and his noble and reall intenc 0GS towards mee. 

“The lord treasurer, after the death of the duke, brought mee to the 
p’sence of yo* maty e att Windsor, when yo r matye gave me most gracious 
words, and tould me the duke had moved yor majestye in my behalfe, and 
assured mee I then stood in the same state of yo r majestyes favour, as I had 
att any time before, w^ was all att that tyme yo r mat 16 would say unto mee. 

“The Lord treasurer assured me of yoe majestyes reall intenc’on to doe 
mee good, as my lord of Dorset and others can testifie, but haveing many 
other great occasions for yo r majesties service, and his intimate friends, and 
conserninge himselfe (howbeit from tyme to tyme he gave mee great hopes), 
yett as it seems delayed the puttinge yo r majestye in mynde thereof; who I 
am most confident, if my suit and the duke’s desire had been heartyly re- 
p’sented to yo r mat ie , would have regarded my service, and remunerated the 
same, w ch I have longe attended to have obtayned. 

“ I procured from the kinge, yor royal ffather, a graunt of the wardshipp 
of my sonne, who is now living, about thirty-five yeares old, and have since 
had, by the gracious fav r of yo r maj tie a graunt of the wardshipp of my 
grandchild, myself being yett living, and my sonne being but of such age as 
aforesaid, whereof no use will I hope be made. 

“ If yo r mat te will out of jo? gracious goodness send me into my countrey, 
w th some m ke of y r majestyes favo r , that may remayne to my poore house and 
posterity, in the givinge of mee some land in ffee farm in that proporcon 
your m atie shall think fitt to doe and- direct, I shall with comfort goe to my 

F 1 


234 


BARTHOMLEY. 


grave; and in the mean tyme pray that the joyes of heaven and earth 
may bee multiplied upon yo* ma tie .” 

The legal honesty, and political consistency, of Sir Ranulphe, 
must raise him high in the estimation of all public-spirited 
men. He loved his King, was desirous of his favour, and wil¬ 
ling to serve him faithfully where he could, but he loved his 
own conscience better; and knowing that he should forfeit the 
royal countenance and favour, and much worldly advantage, by 
the opinion which he gave, he did not, and would not, sacrifice 
one iota of popular right, to the wishes of his royal master, 
or to Jiis own interest, and lost his place. This is the true 
4 monumentum cere perennius ’ which will carry down his fame 
to the latest days. 

From this time he seems to have given up all thoughts of 
public life, and, as “ a silent and patient man,” to devote him¬ 
self to country and literary pursuits, and social enjoyments. 

I beg you to observe the age of Sir Ranulphe, when he 
was so earnest in seeking to be restored to his former of¬ 
fice:—in the 70th year of his age he longed once more to 
buckle on his harness. From the days of Homer until now, 
men talk of the degeneracy of their own times and compeers; 
but, often, without reason: witness, our present Lord Chief 
Justice—Lord St. Leonards, Lord Brougham, and Lord Lynd- 
hurst, who has lately delivered a speech on the Russian-Turk¬ 
ish war, the most argumentative, able, and brilliant of the sea¬ 
son—all, alas! beyond the mark of three score years and ten. 

About A.D. 1608, Sir Ranulphe had the unspeakable satis¬ 
faction of obtaining his heart’s desire, the manor of Crewe and 
other family estates. He is now 4 Crewe of Crewe,’ and, recal¬ 
ling youthful days, exclaims— 44 How delighted my poor dear fa¬ 
ther would be, if he could look down and see his fond wish ac¬ 
complished!” 

The old mansion had been suffered to fall into decay, and 
was unfit for habitation; Sir Ranulphe took it down, and built 
the present one—(of which more hereafter)—upon or near the 


BARTHOMLEY. 


235 


site of the former hall. Quaint old Fuller says of him 

“The Country hath constantly a smile for him for whom the Court hath a 
frown. This knight was out of office, not out of honour, living long after at 
his house in Westminster, much praised for his hospitality.” 

In truth, he had many friends, who not only honoured him, 
but warmly sympathized with him on account of the Court s 
frozen. Among them was the celebrated Denzil Holies, 1 who 
shewed much zeal in his behalf. 

In 1641, July 7th, Mr. Denzil Holies, according to the Order 
of the House of Commons, made the following application to 
the Lords:— 

My Lords, 

These Gentlemen have represented unto your Lordships the sad object of Justice 
perverted, Liberty oppressed, of Judgment turned into Worm-wood; the Lavs, 
which should be the Bars of our Gates, to protect us, keep us, and all that is ours 
in safety, made weak and impotent, to betray us unto the hands of violence, in¬ 
stead of Props to support us, become broken Reeds to deceive us, and run into our 
sides when we lean upon them, even so many snares to entrap and entangle us. 

And all this by the perfidiousness of those who are entrusted with our Laws, 
who call themselves the Guardians, and the Interpreters of the Law; but by their 
accursed Glosses have confounded the Text, and made it speak another Language, 
and another sense, than ever our Ancestors, the Law-makers, intended. 

Our Ancestors made Laws to keep themselves, their posterity after them 
in the possession of their Estates; these Judges could make the Law it self 
rob us and despoil us of our Estates. Were we invaded and persecuted at 
any time for pretended Crimes, or rather because they were free from Crime ? 
And did we put ourselves upon a legal defence, and shelter ourselves under 
the Buckler of the Law; use those Lawful Weapons which Justice and Truth, 
and the Common Right of the Subject did put into our hands, would this 
avail us? No, these Judges would make the Law wrest our Weapons from us, 
disarm us, take away all our defence, expunge our Answers, even bind us hand 
and foot, and so expose us naked and bound, to the mercilesness of our 
Oppressors; were our Persons forced and imprisoned by an Act of Power, 
would the Law relieve us when we appealed unto it? No, it would joyn hands 
with violence, and add bitterness to our sorrow: these Judges would not hear us 
when we did cry, no importunity could get a Habeas Corpus: Nay, our Cryes would 
displease them, and they would beat us for crying, and over-do the unjust Judge in 
the Gospel, with whom yet importunity could prevail. 

My Lords, The Commons of England finding themselves in this lamentable con- 

i Denzil Holies, second son of John, first Earl of Clare, made Privy Councillor 
1660; created in 1661 Baron Holies, of Ifield; ob. 16/9-80, aged 82. 


236 


BARTHOMLEY. 


dition, by the wickedness of these Judges: It is no wonder that we complain of 
them ; it is no wonder if the Knights, Citizens and Burgesses Assembled in Parlia¬ 
ment, have sent up some of their Members to stand upon Mount Ebal to Curse 
these Judges ; to denounce a Curse upon them who have removed onr Land-marks, 
have taken away the Bound-stones of the Propriety of the Subject, have left no 
Meum Sf Tuutn, but he that had most might, had most right, and the Law was sure 
to be on his side. 

It hath been the part of these Gentlemen who have spoken before me, to pray 
for justice upon those men, who would not do justice to others. My Lords, I come 
upon another Errand, and yet for justice too, for there is justice upon Mount 
Gerezim, as well as upon Mount Ebal. It is as great a point of justice to give a 
blessing, a reward w'here it is due, as punishment where punishment is due: For 
reward and punishment, Prcemium 8$ poena, be the two legs that Justice walks on, 
and reward is her right leg, the more noble and the more glorius Supporter of 
that Sacred and Divine Body, that which God himself the Foundation of Justice 
doth more delight in. 

Tardior ad pcenas Ecus est, ad prccmia velox. 

Punishment is good, as Physick in the Consequence, Reward as wholesome and 
nourishing Food, in the Essence; the one we do, because we must do it as neces¬ 
sary ; the other, because we love to do it as being pleasing and delightful. 

Your Lordships then, I doubt not, will as willingly joyn with the Commons, in 
doing good to a good Judge, as in punishing of the bad. 

My Lords, We honour them and reckon them Martyrs for the Common-wealth, 
who suffer any thing by defending the Common Bight of the Subject, when they 
will not part with their own Goods contrary to Law ; when indeed their private 
interest goes along with it, or rather before it; and the publick Concernment seems 
to come but in a second place, such were those many, whom these Judges have 
oppressed; yet these Men we mangnifie, and judge worthy of Praise and Reward. 

But w r hat honour then is he worthy of, who meerly for the publick, hath suffered 
himself to be divested and deprived of his particular, such a Judge as would lose 
his place, rather than do that which his Conscience told him w r as prejudicial to the 
Common-wealth : Is not lie worthy of double honour? 

And this did that Worthy Reverend Judge, the chief Judge of England at that 
time, Sir Randul Crew, because he would not, by subscribing, countenance the 
Loan in the first year of the King, contrary to his Oath and Conscience, he drew 
upon himself the displeasure of some great Persons about his Majesty, who put on 
that project, which was afterwards condemned by the Petition of Right, in the 
Parliament of Tertio, as unjust and unlawful; and by that means he lost his place 
of Chief Justice of the King’s-Bench, and hath these fourteen years, by keeping 
his innocency, lost the profit of that Office, which upon a just Calculation, in so 
lung a Revolution of time amounts to 2G,OOOZ. or thereabouts. 

lie kept his Innocency wffien others let theirs go, when himself and the Com¬ 
mon-wealth were alike deserted, which raises his merit to a higher pitch: For to 
be honest when every body else is honest, when honesty is in fashion, and is Trump, 
as I may say, is nothing so meritorious ; but to stand alone in the breach, to own 
honesty when others dare not do it, cannot be sufficiently applauded, nor sufficiently 


BARTHOMLEY. 


237 


rewarded. And that did this good old man do: in a time of general desertion, he 
preserved himself pure and untainted. 

Temporibusque malis ansus is esse bonus. 

My Lords, the House of Commons are therefore Suitors unto your Lordships, 
to joyn with them in the representation of this good Man’s Case unto his Majesty, 
and humbly to beseech his Majesty to be so good and gracious unto him, as to give 
him such honour (the quality of this case considered) as may be a noble mark of 
Sovereign grace and favour, to remain to him and his posteiity, and maybe in some 
measure a proportionable compensation for the great loss he hath with so much 
patience and resolution sustained. 


I have inserted the whole of this remarkable and impassioned 
address, because of the just and severe animadversions therein 
on the corruption and dishonesty of the Judges at that period, 
and of the strong and fearless testimony borne, by the advocate 
of the House of Commons, to the high and patriotic character 
of “that good old Judge,” Sir Ranulphe Crewe, which so strik¬ 
ingly contrasted that of many of his contemporaries. 

The appeal was unsuccessful: nothing was done for the old 
man. He lived on, quietly and privately, to a great age, in the 
good opinion of his fellow citizens; but he had the grief to see, 
before he closed his eyes in death, that the King’s power had 
crumbled into dust, and “ that perilous times were come.” 

The following letter 1 hardly needs any comment; it at once 
indicates the stern aspect of parties, the wretched condition of 
the country, and the painfully straightened circumstances of the 
Ex-Judge, who was, as he himself states, reduced to live upon 
credit, though his could not have been an exceptional case; 
man}-, no doubt, similarly, if not so severely, suffering:— 

“To my Worthy Friend Sir Richard Browne, Baronet, Agent for the 
King of Great Britain, at Paris. 

Sir,—I writ to you by the last, not then knowing the favour the King 
iad done to you. It seems now there be mutual preparations and resolu¬ 
tions to fight. This plusq. civile helium must he put to the bloody issue. I 
mourn and groan to think of it. God, for his mercy’s sake, look upon our 
miseries! If you saw the counties—how devastated, how impoverished, how 
defaced, it would grieve you. It is well it is out of your eye, liowbeit it be 
familiar to your ear. The text sways much with me,—“if it be possible, 

i The Fairfax Correspondence, (Civil Wars,) London , 1848, Yol, 1, page 98. 


238 


BARTHOMLEY. 


have peace with all men;” and would to God mine eyes might be closed in 
the days of peace. I still thank you for my youth, for whom I wish my 
friend’s assistance to make him a man, for he is in my love and care, and I 
shall rest, 

“Your affectionate friend and servant, 

“ Kanulphe Crewe. 

“10th April, 1644. 

“I myself receive nothing of my revenue, and have been plundered to a 
great value; the little that my son hath for him and his son is so impared, 
that it will in nowise maintain them, and I protest I know not how to sup¬ 
ply but upon credit the means of my subsisting, and I hope my credit shall 
not fail.” 

About this very time (March, 1644,) Sir Thomas Fairfax, being 
appointed by the Parliament to a separate command, yet with 
beggarly resources, as General of Cheshire, had taken posses¬ 
sion of Crewe Hall, where, with his officers and four hundred 
men, he took up his quarters; the soldiers lying in the great 
hall, and other apartments, on straw, the mansion having been 
previously ransacked, and its valuable contents removed there¬ 
from. 

The contributions demanded from Sir Kanulphe Crewe 
by the Parliament, for the support of the army, amounted to 
the large sum, in those days, of between two and three hundred 
pounds per annum; which he complained of to the Council of 
War, as being greater than that which his neighbours, in pro¬ 
portion to their possessions, were called upon to pay. 

Sir Kanulphe died on the third day after the completion of 
his 87th year, at Westminster, January 13th, 1646; “leaving 
Cromwell,” remarks Lord Campbell, “to wield the sceptre 
which he had seen in the hand of Queen Elizabeth”! Reli¬ 
giously and politically, his were, indeed, eventful days! His 
remains were deposited in the family vault, built by his direc¬ 
tion, in the parish church of Barthomley. The register of that 
church has the following entry:— 

“AJD. 1646. 

“ Sir Kanulphe Crewe of Crewe, Knight, buryed the fifth day of June. 
Mortuus est: 13 Jan. 1646.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


239 


It thus appears that several months intervened between the 
death and burial of Sir Ranulphe. His remains were not 
suffered, in those troublesome times, to be removed from his 
town residence in Westminster, (in May, 1646,) for interment 
at Barthomley, until the Speaker of the House of Commons of 
that day had granted his pass for the purpose. 

E chard thus mentions the death of Sir Ranulphe: 

“ We are likewise to take Notice of two other great Men, Sir Randolph 
Crewe, and Sir John Suckling; the former was a renown’d Lawyer, who by 
his great Merits was advanc’d to be Lord Chief Justice in the King’s Bench, 
where he serv’d with great Integrity, but disallowing of the Proceedings in 
the Loan, 162&, he was discharged from his Office, as has been formerly 

mentioned; and for.years after he lead a private life at his House in 

Westminster, where he gained no small Esteem and Reputation by his 
honourable and hospitable Way of Living.” 

Sir Ranulphe Crewe was twice married: first, to Juliana, 
daughter and co-heiress of John Clippesby, of Clippesby, co. 
Norfolk, Esq.—“1598. July 20. Mr. Randall Crew, Counsellor 
at Law in Lincoln’s Inn, to Mrs. Julian Clipsbe, gentlewoman, 
attending upon my lady of Shrewsbury, of this parish.” 1 —by 
whom he had three children. (1.) Sir Clippesby Crewe, of 
Crewe, knt.; (2.) John Crewe, of Utkinton, Esq., M.P. for the 
county of Chester, 6 Car. II.; and (3.) Juliana, who died un¬ 
married. Secondly, to Juliana, daughter of Edw: Fusey, of 
London, and relict of Sir Thomas Hesketh, knt., by whom he 
had no children. The Christian name of both wives was Julia¬ 
na. Of the first Juliana, Fuller has a passing remark:— 

“ One word of bis Lady; a virtuous wife being very essential to the integri¬ 
ty of a married judge, lest, what Westminster Hall doth conclude, Westminster 
bed chamber doth revoke. He married Juliana, daughter and co-heir of John 
Clipsby, of Clipsby, in Norfolk, Esq., with whom he had a fair inheritance. 
She died at Kew, in Surry, 1623, and lieth buryed in the Chancell of Rich¬ 
mond, with this Epitaph:— 

‘ Antique fuit orta domo, pia vixit, inivit 
Virgo pudica thorum, sponsa pudica polum.’ ” 


1 Register of marriages of Allhallows, London Wall. 



240 


BAItTHOMLEY. 


The following Epitaph, on the same lady, has not hitherto 
been published: 

“ Clipsbie’s third Daughter, Crewe’s entirest Love, 

Virtue’s faire Julia, lives with Christ above; 

At her third Childbirth, ere her youth was don, 

Heaven took her Soule, y e Grave her Corps hath won.” 

I will sum up the character of Chief Justice Crewe in the 
words of Lord Campbell:— 

“ I have very great delight in now presenting to the reader a perfectly 
competent and thoroughly honest Chief Justice. Considering the times in 
which he lived, the independent spirit which he displayed is beyond all 
praise. Since the Judges have been irremovable, they can take part against 
the abuses of power on very easy terms, and, as Lord Mansfield remarked, 
‘their temptation is all to the side of popularity.’ Under the Stuarts, a 
Judge gave an opinion against the Crown with the certainty of being dis¬ 
missed from his office; and if he retained his virtue, he had this peculiar me¬ 
rit, that he might have sacrificed it without becoming infamous,—for, how¬ 
ever profligate, numerous examples would have defended him, and the world 
would have excused him, saying—‘He is not worse than his neighbours.’ 
The name of Randolf Crewe, therefore, ought to be transmitted with honour 
to the latest posterity. The more do we owe this debt of gratitude to his me¬ 
mory, that he was not, like Sir Edward Coke, ostentatious and blustering in 
the discharge of his duty. Not seeking to obtain the applause of the world, 
he was a quiet, modest, unambitious man, contented with the approbation of 
his own conscience.” 

From this excellent man you, my child, are descended. 
Emulate his virtue , though you attain not to his wealth and 
fame. 

To satisfy you that he was the true heir male of the Crewes, 
of Crewe, I will conclude this letter with his pedigree in the 
direct line, without the collateral branches:— 


BARTHOMLEY. 


241 


CREWE, 


Henry De Criwa (witness to a deed of William de Malbank) about 1150,= 


Thomas de Crewe, 26 & 51 Henry III., (apparently 
grandson of Henry)=Alice,—50 Henry II. 


... Sir Thomas Crewe, of Crewe,=2, Agnes. 
Knt. living 13 Edw. I. 


Patric de Crewe, 3rd Son,—Margaret daughter of 


living 29 Edw. I, and 
4 Edw. II. 


Thomas Warleston, 
Widow, 12 Edw. III. 


David Crewe, of Sound, 2nd son,=(2) Emmote, daur. of John—(1) Matilda, daur, 

son of Sir William de & co-heiress of 
Ashby, Kt., 1361. Wm. de Grafton. 


William Crewe, of Sound, 2nd son,—Alicia, 
living 14 Rich. II, died 4 Hen. IV. 


John Crewe, of Sonde and Nantwich, 2nd son,—daughter of John Cholmondeley, 
living 1 and 6 Henry V. i of Chorley. 


Elizabeth, daughter of Henry—Thomas, son of John Crewe,=Margery, daughter of 


Norbury, sub-treasurer of 
England, 6 Henry VI. 


of Nantwich, 
23 Henry VI. 


John Partriche, 
of Nantwich. 


Ellen, daughter of William=Thomas Crewe, of Nantwich,=Frances, daughter of 


Venables, of Golborne, 
co. Cest, (1st Wife.) 


4 Hen. VIII. 


Robert Aston, of 
Grange, (2nd Wife.) 


John Crewe, of Nantwich, 2nd son,—Jane, daur. of Ralph* Wil- 
8 and 20 Hen. VII. braham, of Nantwich. 


Jane, daur. of Sir Thomas=Randulph Crewe, of=Anne, daur. of Roger Wright, 


Smith, of Hough, Knt., Wich Malbank, living 
(2nd Wife.) 31 Henry VIII. 


of Nantwich, (1st Wife.) 


John Crewe, of Nantwich, =Alice, daur. of Humphrey Main- 


co. Cest, 1568, died 1598, 
aged 74 years, buried at 
Nantwich. 


waring, of Nantwich, Gent. 


parent, born Mar. 
10, 1555. O. s.p. 


I I . „ I I I 

John Crewe, eldest Lucretia, Prudence Ranulphe,f Thomas, Kt., 

son and heir ap- born Nov. 11, born Feb. 28, Chief Serjeant- 

1553. 1562, died at Justice. at-Law. 

Westminster, 

July 14,1640. 

Yours, &c. 

* In an ancient pedigree of the Crewe family, which passed under the notice of Sir John Crewe, 
of Utkinton, he is named Randle , not Ralph. 

+ This is the correct spelling; Ormerod, Lord Campbell, and others, have it, indiscriminately, 
Randulph, Randolph, Randolf, &c. 

G 1 






















242 


BARTHOMLEY. 


LETTER XVIII. 


my dear boy. 

N my last letter I omitted to say that Sir Ran- 
ulphe Crewe was greatly attached to his native 
town of Nantwich, and regularly contributed 
alms to the poor of the Hospital Street, where¬ 
in he was born. And now, taking leave of this great and good 
man, I will just mention, that Thomas Damme, of Leighton, 
who died in the year 1648, at the extraordinary age of one 
hundred and fifty-four years, was born in the life-time of Ro¬ 
bert Fulleshurst, the Flodden-field warrior, and was between 
thirty and forty years a tenant, in Leighton, under Sir Ran- 
ulphe Crewe, being considerably more than one hundred years 
of age when he first became so. 1 

I will now proceed to notice Thomas, the younger brother of 
Sir Ranulphe Crewe. He also was a man of great parts, and 
likewise obtained a leading place in the profession of the law, 
which profusely repaid his talents and industry, by the bestowal 
of no little wealth. Thomas, in due course, became a member 
of the same honourable society to which his elder brother be¬ 
longed, Lincolns Inn; and although he reached not the high 
position in law of Sir Ranulphe, he seems to have proposed to 
himself similarly high aims, which led to successful and great 
results. The brother’s rivalry was happily carried on with a 
brother’s spirit; and unimpaired mutual affection added lustre 
to the character of each. In truth, in their private and public 
relations, both stood high, and won the respect of contending 

1 The register of Church Minshull, Cheshire, where he was buried, contains the 
following entry respecting him—“1648. Thomas Damme, of Leighton, buried the 
20th of Februarie, being of the age of seven score and fourteen. The Church 
Register is signed by the Rev. T. Holford, Vicar, and T. Kennerley and J. War- 
burton, Churchwardens .”—Information of Mr. Jones, of Nantwich. 





BARTHOMLEY. 


243 


parties, and the esteem of the best and most gifted of their 
contemporaries. 

“Lincolns Inn may well be proud of the brothers Crewe, 
against whose honesty of purpose, moral integrity, noble senti¬ 
ments, and political worth and consistency, in times of peril to 
the statesman, no word of censure has ever been recorded .” 1 
The younger Crewe’s rise in his profession, especially as an ad¬ 
vocate, was, probably, more rapid than his brother’s; his abili¬ 
ties, indeed, were so great as to be proverbial:— 

“Would you have your cause go true, 

Take Senior Crooke, and Junior Crewe.” 

Thomas became more of a politician than his brother. His 
first seat in Parliament appears to have been for the county of 
Northampton; returned 5th April, 1014, 12 James I. The 
Parliament met on the 14th of the same month, but the King 
not finding his wishes, with respect to the supplies, readily 
complied with, and not relishing the free speech of the Com¬ 
mons regarding the ill use of the revenue, the encouragement 
of Papists by the Court, the granting of monopolies, and the 
levying of money without consent, dissolved it on the 7th of 
June, without a single statute being enacted. The King’s de¬ 
sire was to govern without a Parliament. His notions, or 
maxims of government, were all on the side of absolutism; 
but he had neither the decision of character, nor the talent re¬ 
quisite in an absolute prince. He was necessitated to call a 
Parliament, which met on the 30th January, 1621, when 
Thomas Crewe was again returned for the county of Northamp¬ 
ton, and distinguished himself by the prominent part he took 
in the opposition to the contemplated marriage of Prince 
Charles with the Infanta Maria, daughter of Philip III., King 
of Spain, an avowed enemy to the Protestant Religion. But 
of greater importance was the leading part he sustained in fa¬ 
vour of the “Protestation” of the Commons concerning their 

1 Manning’s Lives of the Speakers, London, 1850, page 294. 


244 


BARTHOMLEY. 


privileges. The King had objected thereto, and charged the 
Commons with usurping on his Prerogative Royal , 1 wishing 
that they should acknowledge them as derived from the grace 
and permission of the Crown. This the Cotnmons would by 
no means admit, maintaining them to he their undoubted 
birth-right,” and in the debates which ensued thereon, Thomas 
Crewe boldly gave expression to these memorable words: 

“Our privileges are our inheritance, not matters of grace nor toleration. 
This (he continued) is of that importance to us, that if we should yield our 
liberties to be hut of grace, these walls, that have known the holding of them 

these many years, would blush.In a dutiful manner therefore to claim 

our Right,” &c. 

A powerful party, of which Thomas Crew r e became an influ¬ 
ential member, was formed in opposition to the King s views. 
Out of this open opposition between the King and Parliament 

i “The prerogatives of the sovereign were undoubtedly extensive. The spirit of 
religion and the spirit of chivalry concurred to exalt his dignity. The sacred oil had 
been poured on his head. It was no disparagement to the bravest and noblest 
knights to kneel at his feet. His person was inviolable. He alone was entitled to 
convoke the estates of the realm. He could at his pleasure dismiss them; and his 
assent was necessary to all their legislative acts. He was chief of the executive ad¬ 
ministration, the sole organ of communication with foreign powers, the captain of 
the military and naval forces of the state, the fountain of justice, of mercy, and of 
honour. He had large powers for the regulation of trade. It was by him that money 
was coined, that weights and measures were fixed, that mai’ts and havens were ap¬ 
pointed. His ecclesiastical patronage was immense. His hereditary revenues, eco¬ 
nomically administered, sufficed to meet the ordinary charges of government. His 
own domains were of vast extent. He was also feudal lord paramount of the whole 
soil of his kingdom, and, in that capacity, possessed many lucrative and many for¬ 
midable rights, which enabled him to annoy and depress those who thwarted him, 
and to enrich and aggrandise, without any cost to himself, those who enjoyed his 
favour. 

“ But his power, though ample, was limited by three great constitutional princi¬ 
ples, so ancient that none can say when they began to exist, so potent that their na¬ 
tural development, continued through many generations, has produced the order of 
things under which we now live. 

“First, the king could not legislate without the consent of his Parliament. Se¬ 
condly, he could impose no taxes without the consent of his Parliament. Thirdly, 
he was bound to conduct the executive administration according to the laws of the 
land, and, if he broke those laws, his advisers and his agents were responsible.”— T. 
B. Macauley , History of England from the Accession of James IT., Vol. 1, page 31. 



BARTHOMLEY. 


245 


grew the two parties which, in later times, became distinguished 
by the appellation of Whig and Tory. For the constitutional 
opinions expressed upon the subject of Parliamentary privi¬ 
leges Sir Edward Coke, the learned Selden, and others, were 
unconstitutionally seized and imprisoned; and Thomas Crewe 
was sent to Ireland, “upon a Commission,” or “on the King’s 
business,” it was given out, but, it can hardly be doubted, real¬ 
ly as a punishment, and to be “out of the way”: particularly, 
as it has been remarked, on account of his opposition to the 
“ Spanish Match .” 1 He was chosen Speaker of the Irish Par¬ 
liament, and “his speeches there gave no more pleasure to his 
Majesty, than they had done in England .” 3 

On his return, strange to relate, the court procured his nomi¬ 
nation to the Speakership of the House of Commons which 
met on the 19th February, 1623; he was then Serjeant-at-law, 
and had taken his seat for Aylesbury, in Buckinghamshire. 
The policy of the court in this proceeding can scarcely be un¬ 
derstood as otherwise than having for its object to win over one 
who had exhibited so much ability in debate, and who had ac¬ 
quired no inconsiderable influence. The King’s speech on the 
opening of this Parliament is curious and interesting, acknow¬ 
ledging the “miscarriage of the last” and hoping that this may 
“prove happy.” On the 21st February, to which day the Par¬ 
liament was adjourned, “the Commons presented to the King 
Sir Thomas Crewe, knight, Serjeant-at-law, for their Speaker, 
whose excuse, for insufficiency, &c., being not allowed of, he 
was confirmed accordingly. Then the Speaker addressed him¬ 
self to the Throne, in hcec verba ”:— 

“Most Gracious Sovereign , 

“Since I cannot bring an Olive-Brancb in my Mouth as a Sign of my 
Peace; and that God, (in whose Hands are the Hearts of Kings) without 

1 “Justice Jones, of the Common Pleas, Sir Nathaniel Rich, Mr. Thomas Crewe, 
and others, who were agents (active members) in the last Parliament, are sent Com¬ 
missioners into Ireland. (In order to punish and get rid of them.)”—The Diary of 
Walter Yonge, Esq., printed for the Camden Society . 

2 Lloyd, State Worthies, 


BARTHOMLEY. 






24 G 


whose Providence a Sparrow doth not fall to the Ground, whom no Man can 
resist, hath inclined your Majesty to cast your Eye of Grace on me, and to 
confirm me in this Place: I am taught in the best School, that Obedience is 
better than Sacrifice; and will only say with a learned Father, Da Domine 
quod jubes, & jube quod vis: Otherwise I have great Cause to he afraid of 
such a Charge, to he executed before so great a Majesty, and in so great an 
Assembly; hut that I hope your Majesty will extend your Scepter of Grace, 
as Ahasuerus did, to sustain me in my Fainting. 

“Your Majesty is Princeps Hcereditarius, descended from both the Roses, 
and hath united both the Kingdoms. At your first Entrance you wrought a 
Wonder in the Tumult of our Cares, and Cloud of our Fears, happening up¬ 
on the Death of the late Queen, by the bright Beams of your Sunshine; 

which a Poet elegantly express’d, 

“ Mira cano, Sol occubuit, Nox nulla secuta est. 

“There was a David in Hebron , and no Ishbosheth to disturb your peace¬ 
able Entrance; but the Acclamations of all your Subjects and Commons, 
concurring to express their great Contentment. This was no sudden Flash 
of Joy, but a constant Blessing, by the Continuance of the Gospel and true 
Religion, maugre the Malice and hellish Invention of those, who would have 
blown up all at once; but God laughed them to Scorn, and they fell into 
their own Trap These Things I leave to your Majesty’s Royal Remem¬ 
brance, as a Duty to be practised, and to be expressed by our Thankfulness 
to our holy God; for it is a good thing to be thankful: Non est dignus Dan- 
dis , qui non agit Oratias pro Datis. 

“ Since my Designment to this Place, I called to Mind these Statutes of 
late Times, and find two of especial Note: The first of 32, Henry VIII. which 
was called Parliamentum doctum, for the many good Laws made for the set¬ 
tling of Possessions. The other, 39, Elizabeth; which, by a Reverend Di¬ 
vine, was called Parliamentum Pium; because the Subjects were enabled to 
found Hospitals without Licence of Mortmain , or Ad quod Damnum, and 
other charitable Laws, which I omit, being not perpetual. And I likewise 
called to Mind many glorious Offers made by your Majesty, and other good 
Provisions at the last two Meetings. Now your Majesty hath stretched 
forth your Scepter to call us to you again, and hath made Declaration, that 
all Jealousies and Distractions might be removed, and the Memory of Parlia¬ 
ment-Nullities might be buried. And my Desire is, that your Majesty’s In¬ 
fluence may distil upon us, and you proceed in such a sweet Harmony and 
Conjunction, that Righteousness and Peace may hiss each other, and that 
Mercy and Truth may meet; and the World may say, Ecce quam bonum <& 
quam jucundum Regem & Populum convenire in unum. 

“And, for perfecting this Work, the good Bills against Monopolies, In¬ 
formers, and Concealers, may now pass, and receive Strength, with General, 
Liberal, and Royal Pardon, according to the Bounty of the late Queen; that 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


247 


so this Parliament may be called, Felix, Doctum, d Pium; which will be 
good to your Subjects, and no Diminution to your Revenue, or Derogation 
to your Prerogative; which, in your Majesty’s Hands, is a Scepter of Gold; 
but, in other Hands, is a Rod of Iron. I need not speak in the Praise of 
the fundamental Common Laws; Veritas Temporis Filia, Time hath suffi¬ 
ciently justified them. Monarchy is the best Government; and of Mon¬ 
archies, those which are hereditary. The best Supply of your Majesty’s 
Wants is in Parliament, where the Subject is bound by his own Consent; 
other Courses of Benevolence come heavily. The Subjects enjoy the Gospel 
freely by your Protection, and your Majesty may he safe in their Loyalty: 
Other Safeties are but as Ajax his Shield, a Weight rather than a Defence. 
Their t)esire is, that the good Laws for Religion may be confirmed; and that 
the Generation of Locusts, the Jesuits and Seminary Priests, which were 
wont to creep in Corners, and do now come abroad, may be, by the Execu¬ 
tion of these good Laws, as with an East Wind, blown over the Sea. Our 
late Queen Elizabeth lived and died in Peace; the Pope cursed her, but 
God blessed her: And so shall your Majesty, having God to your Friend, 
find Safety in the Ark of true Religion, and, when you are old and full of 
Days, land you in Heaven; and then your hopeful Prince, which sprang out 
of your own Loins, shall sway that Scepter, which you must leave to enjoy 
a Crown celestial. And God, in his due Time, will restore the distressed 
Princess, her Husband and Royal Issue, to that Inheritance which is now 
possessed by the usurping Sword of their Enemies: Whereof we are the 
more confident, because that Country was heretofore a Sanctuary in our Dis¬ 
tress, when Religion was here persecuted. Cato was wont to say, Hoc sen - 
tio, d Carthago destruenda est: But I say, Hoc sentio, d Palatinatus recuper - 
andus est. 

“The Question was put to a Lacedemonian, Why their City wanted 
Walls? who answered, Concord was their Walls. Your Majesty, under God, 
is a sole and entire Monarch, whose Walls are the Ocean without, and forti¬ 
fied within with a Wall of Brass, the Bond of Unity and Religion, and hap¬ 
py is that Place, of which it may be said, as of Jerusalem, it is a City at 
Unity within itself. Neither is your Government confined within the Limits 
of this Kingdom, but extends itself to Ireland; where your Majesty’s Care 
and Pains, in our late Employment, gave divers provident Directions for the 
setting forth of Religion, the reforming of Courts of Justice, and the inflict¬ 
ing Punishment on the Disturbers of the Public Peace. And I was Ocula¬ 
ris Testis, that you have made these ample Endowments of Churches out of 
your own excheated Revenue, as will be to your Honour in all Posterity. 
But my Desire is, as well in the Beginning, as in all other our Proceedings, 
our Words may be vera, pauca, d ponderosa. 

“Therefore, with your gracious Favour, according to antient Precedents, 
we are humble Suitors, that you would be pleased to allow our antient Privi* 


248 


BARTHOMLEY. 


leges; and that, for our better Attendance, our Persons, Goods, and necessa¬ 
ry Attendance, may be free from Arrests; and that we may have Liberty of 
free Speech, not doubting hut we shall confine ourselves within the Limits 
of Duty. And because this great Business may give us Occasion often to re¬ 
sort to your Majesty, that upon our public Suit, you will be pleased to give 
us your own fit Time of Access; and that all our Actions may have a benign 
Interpretation, and a good Acceptation and Opinion. 

“Lastly, That I may not only he a Speaker, hut an humble Suitor, pro¬ 
testing by the great God, by whom Kings do reign, That whatsoever I have 
said, hath proceeded from a loyal Heart; I therefore, desire that I may be 
covered with the Vail of your gracious Construction, or acquitted by your 
gracious Pardon.” 

I have given you this oration at length, because it not only 
forcibly and clearly lays down those great maxims of constitu¬ 
tional government which prevail to the present time, and are 
the bulwarks of the people’s liberty, but is also a very curious 
specimen of that style of language which, soon afterwards, be¬ 
came the distinctive one of puritan and democrat, by whom 
Scripture was used on all occasions, public or private, and too 
often served to justify the most outrageous sentiments and acts. 
A vein of pedantic flattery runs through the speech, which 
makes it peculiarly remarkable. Allusion is delicately made 
to one great cause of the people’s dissatisfaction: the blow 
Protestantism had received in Bohemia, which, at the same 
time, stript the King’s son-in-law of his crown, and deprived 
him of his hereditary dominions. Some attributed this dis¬ 
aster to the King’s indolence. It would appear that his Ma¬ 
jesty was so absorbed in the contemplation of the “ Spanish 
Match” as to be indifferent to all other interests, and the 
strong Protestant feeling of the country was roused into ex¬ 
treme jealousy. 

The proceedings of this Parliament were of great length, al¬ 
though little public business of importance was effected . 1 The 

1 It is worthy of remark, however, that, in this session, King James made an ex¬ 
traordinary and unprecedented concession: granting leave to the Parliament to 
name and appoint their own treasurers and commissioners for the disbursement of 
the supply. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


249 


session was determined by the King in person on the 29th of 
May, 1624, when Sir Thomas Crewe, as Speaker, again made 
another oration, congratulating his Majesty on the unanimity 
which had prevailed throughout the session: “As there was not 
a Hammer heard in the building of the House of God, so, in 
this great Business, there was not a negative Voice, nor any 
Jarring amongst them;” thanking him for their “antient privi¬ 
leges, which they fully enjoyed this Parliament, and, in parti¬ 
cular, for their freedom from arrests”; and, on the presentation 
of the money bill, he added, in reference to the recovery of the 
Palatinate, for which principally a large grant had been voted 
by the Commons, with “cheerfulness”,— 

“His earnest Prayers unto Almighty God, to direct his Majesty’s Heart 
to make his own Sword his Sheriff to put his Son-in-Law in possession of 
the Palatinate, the antient Inheritance of his Royal Grand-Children.” 

The Parliament was prorogued until the 2nd of Novem¬ 
ber; and after two other prorogations was finally to meet on 
the 20th of April, 1625, but the King’s death, on the 27tli of 
the preceding month, caused this Parliament to be finally dis¬ 
solved. 

Sir Thomas Crewe was this year (1624), made King’s Ser¬ 
jeant, at all times a much coveted distinction, since it is 
generally esteemed as a mark of pre-eminent ability. 

The first Parliament of Charles the First was summoned to 
meet at Westminster, on the 7th of May, 1625, by writs bear¬ 
ing date the 2nd of April, but it was prorogued several times, 
in consequence of the ceremonies attendant on the celebration 
of the King’s marriage with Henrietta Maria, sister of Louis 
XIII., King of France. His Majesty met the Parliament, how¬ 
ever, on the 18th of June, and delivered an able speech, which 
was favourably received. 

Sir Thomas Crewe, having taken his seat for Gatton, in the 
county of Surrey, was again elected Speaker, and presented 
by the Commons on the 20th of June; when, being confirmed 

H 1 


250 


BARTHOMLEY. 


in his office, he addressed the Throne in somewhat similar 
terms to those contained in his speech of the previous Parlia¬ 
ment ; the same questions still continuing to agitate the pub¬ 
lic mind:— 

“At this time there were many reasons to dispose the hearts of the Peo¬ 
ple to a general concurrence and satisfaction: and it cannot be denyed but 
here were all the wise and just measures, that a New Prince could take to 
render himself acceptable to bis People and considerable to the World. The 
House of Commons presented Sir Thomas Crewe, Seijeant-at-Law, for their 
Speaker; and his Majesty’s acceptance of him was thought the more agree¬ 
able, because he had been Speaker in the very last Parliament, and so better 
acquainted with the Affairs at this time depending.” 

Unhappily, the new King, who had inherited his father’s po¬ 
litical theories, and was much more disposed than his father to 
carry them into practice, assumed a despotic authority which, 
if not checked, would have subjected the English Parliament 
to the condition of the continental senates. “And now be¬ 
gan,” writes Macauley, “that hazardous game on which were 
staked the destinies of the English people. It was played on 
the side of the House of Commons with keenness, but with ad¬ 
mirable dexterity, coolness, and perseverance. Great states¬ 
men, who looked far behind them and far before them, were at 
the head of that assembly. They were resolved to place the 
King in such a situation that he must either conduct the' ad¬ 
ministration in conformity with the wishes of his Parliament, 
or make outrageous attacks on the most sacred principles of 
the constitution.” 

The Commons not being sufficiently compliant, the King’s 
choice was soon made. He dissolved his first Parliament, and 
levied taxes by his own authority. The removal of the Lord 
Chief Justice, Sir Ranulphe Crewe, for not countenancing the 
King’s unconstitutional course, has been already noticed. A 
second Parliament being convoked, it proved more intractable 
than the first. A third Parliament being called, the opposition 
was stronger and fiercer than ever. A compromise was agreed 

1 Echard’s History, page 421. 


BARTHOMLEY, 


251 


upon, which, if the King had faithfully adhered to it, might 
have averted a long series of calamities. I refer to that cele¬ 
brated law which is known by the name of the Petition of 
Right, the great importance of which Sir Ranulphe Crewe early 
and rightly appreciated, in referring to it in his manly appeal 
to the Duke of Buckingham, and wdiich may be regarded as the 
second great charter of the liberties of England. Charles con¬ 
stantly violated its provisions, and systematically attempted to 
make himself a despot, and to reduce the Parliament to a nul¬ 
lity. From March, 1629, to April, 1640, the houses of Parlia¬ 
ment were not convoked. 

The King’s perplexity, as well as difficulty, in dealing with 
the Parliament, are made manifest by the proceedings he 
adopted on the adjournment of the House of Commons in 
March, 1628. I shall subjoin an extract from Sir John Brain - 
ston’s Memoirs, which will serve to indicate the nature of the 
approaching rupture, and the prominent part Sir Thomas 
Crewe was called on to take in giving replies to the King’s 
most significant interrogatories. 1 

1 “ Vpon the 2d day of March 1628 the Kinge directed an adiournement of the Com¬ 
mons House vntill the xth day of the same month, which receaued some opposition, and 
some members behaued themselues soe as gaue offence to his Majestie, wherevpon the 
next day (3 March) the 2 Chief Justices and Chief Barron were sent for to the Councill, 
where alsoe was his Majestie, and a declaration was read of the speeches vsed and the be¬ 
haviour of diuers of the members of the Commons House the day before, which beinge 
done, the King commanded the said thre Judges to meete and answer such questions as 
should be proposed to them by his atturney, and for theire assistance they should call 
such of his learned Councill as were in towne; whereupon they, the Atturney and Sollici- 
tor, Sergeant Crewe, and Sergeant Dauenport, met, and these questions were proposed, 
and the answers made by vniforme consent, as followeth. Whether a Parliament man 
offending the King criminally or contemptuously in the Parliament House, and not there 
punished, may be punished out of Parliament ? Wee conceaue that if a Parliament man, 
exceedinge the priuilege of Parliament, doe criminally or contemptuously offend his Ma¬ 
jesty in the Parliament House, and not then punished, may be punished out of Parlia¬ 
ment. 

“ Whether the Kinge, as he hath power of calling orldissoluinge of a Parliament, hath 
not alsoe an absolute power to cause it to be adiuumed at his pleasure ? Whether, if the 
Kinge doe command an adiournment to be made, he hath not alsoe power to command 
all farther proceedings in Parliament to cease at that tyme? Wee conceaue the Kinge 
hath power of commandinge adiournments of Parliament, as well as of callinge, prorogue- 


252 


RARTHOMLEV. 


I know nothing further, of moment, relative to any public 
acts of his after this period. With the first Parliament of 
Charles the First the political career of Sir Thomas Crewe 
may be considered to have terminated. It does not appear 
that he was in any way more inclined than his brother to 
approve the King’s disposition towards unconstitutional pro¬ 
ceedings. I have no doubt he viewed rightly, the coming 
struggle; and mournfully regarded the dangerous and unwise 
course on which the young monarch was so obstinately bent. 
Sir Thomas Crewe had attained a high and honourable po¬ 
sition, and by his profession had reaped most ample wealth. 
It is not surprising, therefore, that, at the age of three 
score years, he should have sought retirement from the stormy 

ing, and dissoluiuge; but for the manner there, and for the more perticnlar answer to 
these two questions, wee refer ourselues to the precedents of both Houses. 

“ Whether it he not an high contempt in a Member of the House, contrarie to the 
King's express command, tumultuously to oppose the adiournement? The King’s ex¬ 
press commandment beinge signified for adiournement, if any after that shall oppose it 
tumultuously, farther or otherwise then the priuilidge of the House will warrant, this we 
conceaue is a great contempt. Vpon deliuerie of this auswer his Majestie sent this far¬ 
ther question, Cann any priuilidge of the House warrant a tumultuous proceedinge ? To 
which they answer, Wee humbly conceaue that an earnest, tho’ disorderly and confused, 
proceedinge in such a multitude may be called tumultuous, and yet the priuilidge of the 
House may warrant it. 

“ If a few Parliament men doe conspire togeather to stir vp ill affections in the people 
against the Kinge, and to leaue the Parliament with such a loose, and by words or 
writinge putt in execution, and this not punished in Parliament, be an offence punishable 
out of Parliament ? We conceaue this punishable out of Parliament. 

Whether if some Parliament men shall conspire togeather to publish papers contcin- 
inge false and scandalous newes against the Lords of the King's Councill, or any one or 
more of them, not to the end to question them in a legall or Parliamentarie way, but to 
bringe them into hatred of the people, and the Gouernement into contempt, and to make 
discord betweene the Lords and Commons; if this be an offence punishable out ofParlie- 
ment? Wee conceaue this punishable out of Parliament. 

“ If two or three, or more, of the Parliament shall conspire to defame the King's go¬ 
vernment, and to deterr his subjects from obeyinge or assistinge the Kinge, of what na¬ 
ture is this offence? The nature of this offence will be greater or less, as the circum¬ 
stances shall fall out vpon the truth of the fact. This answer not satisfyinge, his Majes¬ 
tie sent this addition, written with his owne hand. It is true the circumstances of the fact 
will aggrauate or diminish when perticular men come to be tryed, but I must know what 
the nature of the offence is being proued? Wee, in all humblenes, are willinge to satisfie 
your Majesties commands, but vntill the perticular of the fact doe appeare wee cann giue 
noe directer answer then before.” —Autobiography of Sir John Bramston, printed for the 
Camden Society , 


BARTHOMLEY. 


253 


debates, and daily increasing excitement of the House of Com¬ 
mons. His son, too, had again taken his seat, being returned 
for Brackley, and was beginning to enter, with much zeal, into 
parliamentary duties; having, doubtless, the advantage of his 
father’s experience to guide and direct him. 

Sir Thomas Crewe did not live to witness the disasters which 
befell the monarchy, and the country. He died on the 1st of 
February, 1633, in the sixty-eighth year of his age. 1 

I must now proceed to give you some account of his domes¬ 
tic history. He married Temperance, 2 fourth daughter of Re¬ 
ginald Bray, (the younger,) Esquire, of Steane, in the county of 
Northampton. Reginald Bray, who died 25 Eliz: (1583,) left 
five daughters and co-heiresses, and Sir Thomas Crewe, by 
purchase of his wife’s sisters’ shares, acquired the entire inheri¬ 
tance of the “ manors and advowsons of Steane and Hinton,” 
granted in 11 Henry VII., (1495,) to Sir Reginald Bray, an 
eminent statesman and architect, descended from Sir Thomas 
Bray, of East Haddon, &c., seneschal to King Henry III. 

1 I may here mention the circumstance of Sir Thomas Crewe being one of the 
executors of that great luminary of the law, and philosopher, Lord Chancellor Bacon. 

2 Robert Herrick, one of the most brilliant of our lyric poets, the “jocund and 
joyous” author of the “ Hesperides,” who was the intimate friend of Sir Clipsby 
Crewe, as well as of his cousins, the sons of Sir Thomas, addressed the following 
verses 

“To the Lady Crewe, upon the Death of her Child”:— 

“ Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, 

When as your baby’s lull’d asleep? 

And, pretty child, feels now no more 
Those pains it lately felt before. 

All now is silent; groans are fled; 

Your child lies still, yet is not dead: 

But rather like a flower hid here, 

To spring again another year.” 

And he was, also, the author of the following 

“Epitaph on the Lady Crewe:— 

“ This stone can tell the story of my life, 

What was my birth, to whom I was a wife; 

In teeming years how soon my sun was set, 

Where now I rest, these may be known by jet; 

For other things, my many children he 
The best and truest chronicles of me.” 


254 


BARTHOMLEY. 


The Manor House stood two miles north of Brackley, in a 
walled park of about 150 acres, and was, probably, erected by, 
certainly co-eval with, Sir Reginald Bray; for, in one of the hall 
windows, was his device, a thorn with a crown in the middle, 
allusive to his having found King Richard’s crown in a thorn 
bush, after the battle of Bosworth. It was a large quadrangu¬ 
lar building, with a ballustrated gallery round the inner area. 
Bishop Crewe, grandson of Sir Thomas, on succeeding to his 
father’s title and estates, gave princely entertainments here; 
and here, also, Henry Grey, Duke of Kent, who married Jemima, 
granddaughter of Sir Thomas Crewe, occasionally resided; but 
when transferred to the Spencer family it was deserted, and 
partly taken down between 1740 and 1750. The kitchen and 
inferior offices were converted into a commodious farm house, 
which is in good condition, I am informed, at the present time. 

There is, at Steane, a beautiful little Church or Chapel, dedi¬ 
cated to St. Peter. In the centre of the pediment of the west 
front is inscribed, “Built by T. C. 1620,”—the initials of Sir 
Thomas Crewe before he was knighted, and over the west door: 

“ HOLINES BECOMETH THENE HOUSE O LOUD FOR EVER.” 

It is grateful to record this act of piety in Sir Thomas 
Crewe, and especially at the time, too, of his attaining the height 
of his prosperity, when most people are too apt to forget, or to 
neglect, their more sacred duties. Horace Walpole, in August, 
1753, writes, in a letter to his friend Mr. Chute:— 

“ We went to see a sweet little chapel, at Steane, built, in 1620, by Sir 
Thomas Crewe, Speaker in the time of the first James and Charles. Here 
are remains of the mansion-house, but quite in ruins; the chapel is kept up 
by my lady Arran, the last of the race. There are seven or eight monu¬ 
ments.” 

I will here give you a description of the principal monu¬ 
ments, with their inscriptions:— 

“ At the east end of the north wall is a large altar tomb of black, white, 
and grey marble, with the effigies of Sir Thomas Crewe, and his lady, Tem¬ 
perance Bray; over which is raised an arch, between two circular Ionic pil¬ 
lars of black marble, supporting an entablature, on which are placed three 


BARTHOMLEY. 


255 


shields within circles: I. Crewe , impaling Bray. On the dexter side, II. 
Crewe , quartering G. fretty, and sem6e of fleurs de lis 0. Hamelyn. And 
on the sinister, III. Bray , and Bray ancient , quarterly. The knight in ser¬ 
geant’s robes, coif, and quilted ruff, reclines on his right side, leaning his head 
on his hand, and holding in his left hand a scroll. He has an expressive 
countenance; mustachios, and pointed beard. Below him, on a projecting 
slab of black marble, lies bis lady, her head reposing on a cushion, and her 
hands carelessly disposed. Her veil or hood thrown back, short flowing hair, 
open ruff, boddice, and the cufls of her sleeves edged with lace. Over the 
figures, on a black tablet within the arch,— 

THOMAS CREWE MILES 
SERVIENS D’NI REGIS AD 
LEGEM PROLOQUITOR 
PARL1AMENT0RUM ANN1S 
XXI 0 JACOBI ET 1° CAROLI 
1° FEBRUARII ANNO D’NI 

1633. obiit jEtatis side 68 
Peregrinus in Patriam. 


TEMPERANS CREWE THE WIFE OF THOMAS 
CREWE ESQ, & ONE OF YE DAUGHTERS & COHEYRS 
OF REGINALD BRAY ESQ, BY ANNE HIS WIFE 
DAUGHTER OF THO. LORD VAUX. DIED IN YE LORD 25 
OCTOB., 1619 & IN YE 38 YE ARE OF HIR AGE & NOW 
RESTS FROM HIR LABOURS & HIR WORKES FOLLOW HIR, 

A daughter of Abraham here doth lye 
returned to hir dust, 

Whose life was hid with Christ in God 
In whom was all hir trust; 

Who wisely wrought while it was day, 

And in hir spirit did watch and pray, 

To heare God’s word attentive was hir care, 
hir humble hart was lull of holy feare 
Hir hand w ch had good blood in every vaine, 

Yet was not dayntye, nor did disdayne 
Salue to applye to Lazarus’ sore 
and was inlarged to the poore. 

Lyke God’s Angels shee honor’d those 
that taught his word, & did his will disclose, 

And persons vile, hir hart abhorr’d 
but reverenst such as feard the Lord. 

A true Temperans in deed and name; 

now gone to heaven from whence she came, 



256 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Who with hir lott was well contented 
who lived desired and dyed lamented. 

Prcemissa non amissa, discessa non mortua . 

CONJUX CASTA, PARENS FELIX, MATRONA PUDICA, 

SARA VIRO, MUNDO MARTHA, MARIA DEO. 

“At the west end of this wall is a monument of black and white marble. 
In the centre of an open pediment, arms, quarterly, Crewe and Bray, impal¬ 
ing, per pale Ar. and G-. Waldeqrave; supporters of Creive, and baron’s coro¬ 
net. On a rectangular black tablet between two ionic pillars is inscribed in 
letters of gold,— 

JOHN LORD CREWE BARON OF STEANE 
SON OF S R THOMAS CREWE KNIGHT 
AND TEMPERANCE HIS WIFE ONE OF 
THE DAUGHTERS AND COHEIRS OF 
REGINALD BRAY OF STEANE IN THE 
COUNTY OF NORTHAMPTON ESQ: 

DIED IN THE EIGHTY SECOND YEAR 
OF HIS AGE THE TWELFTH DAY OF 
DECEMBER IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 

1679. 

JEMIMAH LADY CREWE WIFE OF JOHN 
LORD CREWE, DAUGHTER AND COHEIR 
OF EDWARD WALDEGRAVE OF LAWFORD 
JN THE COUNTY OF ESSEX ESQ. DIED 
IN THE SEAVENTY FOURTH YEAR OE 
HER AGE THE FOURTEENTH DAY OF 
OCTOBER IN Y e YEAR OF OUR LORD ONE 
THOUSAND SIX HUNDRED SEAVENTY 
FIVE AND IS HERE INTERRED. 

“ Collateral to the last is a lofty monument of white marble, to the memo¬ 
ry of Thomas Lord Crewe, eldest son of John first Lord Crewe, of Steane,— 
and adjoining thereto is a handsome monument of variegated marble. Two 
circular Corinthian pillars with gilt bases and capitals, support an architrave 
on which is raised a mitre between two coronets. On the bell below, Crewe, 
impaling Ar. a chevron V. between three bugle horns S. string G. Forster, 
with coronet and supporters. In gilt letters on a rectangular tablet of black 
marble, 

Near this place lyeth y e Body 
of the lit. Rev d & lit. Hon ble 
Nathaniel L d Crewe 
L d Bishop of Durham & Baron of Steane 
5 th Son of John Lord Crewe. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


257 


He was Bom Jan. ye 3L. 1633 
was consecrated B p - of Oxford 1671 
Translated to Durham in 1674 
was Clerk of ye Closet & Privy Counsellour 
in ye Reigns of K. Charles ye Second & 

K. James ye Second 
And died Sep br ye 18 th 1721 
Aged 88. 

Near this place lyeth ye Body 
of ye Rt Hon ble Dorothy Lady Crewe 
Wife of Nathaniel Lord Crewe 
and Daughter of S r William Forster, 
of Balmborough, in Northumberland Kt. 
who died Oet br ye 16 th 1715. aet. 42. 

“This monument was erected by the Bishop in memory of his second 
wife, to whom he was fondly attached, and he was accustomed frequently to 
retire to it and indulge in meditations on his irreparable loss. The sculptor 
had decorated the tomb with the common place emblem of mortality, a 
ghastly scull, and the Bishop one day expressing a wish to his domestic 
chaplain, Dr. Grey, that it had not been placed there, the doctor sent to Ban¬ 
bury for the sculptor, and enquired if he could not substitute a more pleas¬ 
ing object. ‘ Yes,’ after a little hesitation, was the reply, ‘ I can convert it 
into a bunch of grapes,’ and it was metamorphosed accordingly. 

“ On the south wall is a marble monument of fantastic design. A female 
in her shroud is rising out of a coffin; on each side of her is a female figure 
under an arch, over the dexter one is an eagle, over the sinister a lamb, and 
between these emblems an archangel issuing out of clouds with a trumpet and 
holding a scroll, inscribed, ‘Arise ye Dead, and come to judgment.’ The 
whole surmounted by arms, 0. a chevron engrailed harry wavy of eight Ar. 
and Az. between three eranes of the Third Browne of Eydon, quartering Az. 

two bars, and in chief a talbot passant Ar.; and on the outer spandrils 

of the arches Browne, and Crewe. Beneath the coffin, on the dexter, ‘Disce 
Mori’ under a death’s head, and on the sinister ‘ Mors Miht Corona’: and 
between them a square tablet inscribed, 

HERE REST PRESERVED UNDER THIS MARBLE ARKE 
YE PRECIOUS & DEARE RELICKS OF TEMPERANCE 
wife of JOHN BROWNE esq. third daughter of 
S R THO. CREWE k t * the KING’S sergeant at la we 

A CONSTANT LOVER OF THE BEST. OF A DISPOSITION 
AMIABLE & CHEERFUL! & A WITT HIGH & PLEASANT. 

HER SPIRITE OF A DAYNTYE ELEVATION .* & HER DISCRE¬ 
TION justlye tempered: of a winning courtesye; & 

1 1 




258 


BARTHOMLEY. 


OF A CONQUERING MEEKNESSE. HER FAVTH THAT OF 
THE CHURCHES WHOSE FRUITES WERE HER DAYLYE 
CHARITIES: & Y E TRYALL HER SAYNTLIKE PATIENCE IN HER 
S1CKNESSE. THIS BECOMING MORTALL TRANSLATED 
HER INTO IMMORTALITYE SEPT. 22. 1634 AGED 25 
YEARES. SHE LEFT NO OTHER POSTERITY BUT HER 
FAME & DEARE MEMORYE TO WHICH Y s IS SACRED. 

1635. 

On marble slabs are monumental inscriptions as under:— 

“1. Arms. Crewe, impaling Az. a chevron Erin, between three escal 
lops Ar. Townshend. 

HERE LYES MARY WIFE OF THOMAS 
CREWE ESQ. ELDEST DAUGHTER OF 
SIR ROGER TOWNSHEND OF EAST RAINHAM 
IN THE COUNTY OF NORFOLK BARONET 
AND MARY HIS WIFE SECOND DAUGHTER 
OF HORATIO LORD VERE BARON OF 
TILBURY WHO DIED JULY YE 4 TH 

1658. 

“ 2. Arms, crest, and supporters of Crewe, impaling, Az. three lions ram 
pant 0. ducally crowned G. within a border Erm. Frowde. 

HERE LYETH INTERRED 
THE R t HON ble PENELOPE 
LADY CREWE 

WIFE OF NATHANIEL LORD CREWE 
BARON OF STEANE 
AND L d BISHOP OF DURHAM 
DAUGHTER OF S K PHILIP FROWDE K r ' 

IN THE COUNTY OF KENT 
WHO DIED IN THE 44 th YEAR 
OF HER AGE, 

THE 9 th DAY OF MARCH 
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD 

1699. 


Here lyetli the Body of 
Elizabeth Countess of Arran 
fifth daughter of 
Thomas Lord Crewe 
Who Died the 21 st Day of May 1756 
in the 77 th year of her age. 


(See Baker’s History of Northamptonshire.) 




BARTHOMLEY. 


259 


Sir Thomas Crewe purchased property (consisting of fee farm 
rents,) in his native county, for which, and the town of his birth, 
Nantwich, he ever had the greatest affection. The amor patrice 
seems especially to belong to Cheshire men; and exercised a 
very laudable influence over Sir Thomas, as the following ex¬ 
tract from his will declares. After appointing ten pounds 'per 
annum , out of his Buglawton (co. Cest.) rents, to his sister dur¬ 
ing her life, and the rest to be distributed as it then was, and 
after his said sister’s death,— 

“ The whole rent and profit of Buglawton to he employed—Half of it 
yearly till the way he mended, and a bridge made at Holbeck; and the other 
half, yearly, to the poor of Nantwich , as it then was, and after the bridge is fin¬ 
ished, then the whole rent and profit of Buglawton to be for ever employed 
either to erect and maintain an Hospital of some poor in the Hospital 
Street, or to be put in stock in all or part to keep the poor of that street in 
work, or to be distributed yearly among the poor of that street, with some 
allowance to the preacher.” 

The part of the above extract relating to the way and bridge, 
at Holbeck, is rather curious. It has been suggested, “that 
Sir Thomas Crewe was moved to contribute to the repair of 
this road, and to the erection of the bridge, in consequence of a 
fortunate escape he had whilst travelling through the Holbeck 
brook to the mansion of Sir Thomas Smith, of Hatherton, who 
w r as connected with the family of Crewe, of Nantwich, by mar¬ 
riage, and which would render it very natural that Sir Thomas 
Crewe should be desirous of guarding against similar inconve¬ 
nience in future.” 1 But this is a not very complimentary con¬ 
jecture; yet as tradition gives no reason for his particular 
regard for this locality of Holbeck, and, as the promoting a 
great man’s ease is, sometimes, productive of public good, we 
will not hesitate to adopt it. 

Brackley has benefitted by his charity, known there as 
Crewe’s Alms House. By will, in 1633, he devised as follows: 

“ I devise and appoint that an hospital for six poor people of Brackley be 
built, and each of them to have £4 a year allowance, those poor to be ap¬ 
pointed out of Brackley by my heir, or else ^£20 a year for ever to be distri- 

1 Mr. Jones, of Nantwich. 


200 


BARTHOMLEY. 


buted yearly to 20 poor people of Brackley, to be nominated by my heirs. 
And as any dieth to be supplied. I leave the choice to my son John 
whether of these courses to pursue. And if he makes choice of the latter, 
then I also add i£100 either to build a workhouse, or to be a stock to set 
poor to work, at the election of my son John.” In the exercise of this option 
the son erected an almshouse of stone, with the arms of Crewe impaling 
Bray in front, at the entrance of the town from Towcester. The widows are 
appointed (1830,) by V/. R. Cartwright, of Aynho, Esquire, M.P., one of the 
representatives of the founder, and their stipends and the repair of the build¬ 
ing charged on the estate of J. J. Blencowe, of Marston St. Lawrence, 
Esquire. They also receive £2 each yearly under the will of Nathaniel Lord 
Crewe and Bishop of Durham.” 1 

Sir Thomas Crewe very early in life manifested a studious 
disposition, and had the advantage of the society of some of 
the most gifted of his contemporaries. What may have been his 
particular literary pursuits, apart from the law, there is very 
little to indicate. I believe that he was the author of a little 
volume, hearing the date of 1580, having for its title,— 

“ The Nosegay of Moral Philosophy, &c. Englished, &c. Questions and 
Answers; by Thomas Crewe. London,” 16mo, 1580. 

It is now almost, if not entirely, forgotten, but is held in 
some esteem by those who are acquainted with its contents. 

Sir Thomas Crewe had horn to him four sons, 8 John, 
Thomas, Nathaniel, Salatliiel; and five daughters—Anne, Pa- 
tience, Temperance, Silence, Prudence. 

John, the eldest son of Sir Thomas Crewe, claims from me 
something more than a passing notice. He had a seat in the 
first parliament of Charles the First, being returned for Amer- 
sham, co. Bucks, and continued to represent either Brackley 
or the more important constituency of the county of Northamp¬ 
ton, until the Restoration; when, in consideration of his ser¬ 
vices, in behalf of the monarchy, he was rewarded with a peer¬ 
age, by letters patent, dated 20th April, 13th Charles II., 
becoming Baron Crewe, of Steane. You will observe that, at 

1 Baker’s History of Northamptonshire. 

2 “They had four sons, (John, Thomas, Nathaniel, and Salathiel,) whose ages 
amounted to 320 years before they died.”— Nic/iolls’ History of Leicestershire. 


BARTHOMLEY, 


261 


the time he entered upon his duties and responsibilities, as a 
member of parliament, he had the advantage of the truly 
loyal and patriotic example and counsel of his uncle Sir 
Ranulphe, as well as of his father, who, I may remark, 
took great pains with the education of his children; and well 
and worthily, it will be seen, did John Crewe perform his part. 
He commenced his career, as a public man, at a most critical 
period, and at once took an active and somewhat commanding 
position. As might be expected, he sided with the parliament 
against the attempted assumptions of the crown. In a corres¬ 
pondence like ours, it would be ridiculous to attempt even an 
outline of the history of this important and deeply interesting 
period. A full and impartial account has, indeed, yet to be 
compiled. The designs and proceedings of the first opposi¬ 
tion, among whom will be found the names of some of the best, 
most virtuous, and most loyal and patriotic men, have been 
grievously misrepresented, but I must here confine myself to a 
single reference, in explanation of what was contemplated by 
the parliamentarians:— 

“The Members of Parliament, who then engaged, declared themselves to 
desire nothing hut the settlement of the kingdom, in the honour and great¬ 
ness of the King, and in the happiness and safety of the People: And when¬ 
soever that could be obtained, to lay down the Sword, and submit again to 
the King’s Sceptre of Peace more willingly than ever they resisted his Force 
and Power, this I am sure was the ultimate end of many, I may say, of the 
chiefest of those who at that time appeared: upon which principle they first 
moved, and from which they never departed; which made them at that time 
resolve to put their Lives into their hands, and offer them a Sacrifice to the 
welfare and happiness of their Prince and Country. I say Prince as well as 
Country, tho’ he perhaps look’d on them as his greatest Enemies; but they 
consider’d him as their Prince, whom Nature, Duty, the Command of God, 
and the Laws of Men, obliged them to reverence, and to love as the Head 
and Father of the People; whose greatness consisted in his People’s, and his 
People’s in his; and therefore neither could be great, or happy, one without 
the other, which made those faithful ones put them both in the same Ba¬ 
lance, and rather adventure his displeasure by promoting the public Cause, 
than (as they thought) his ruin by deserting it.” 

Thus wrote Denzil Lord Holies, one of the most able and 


262 


BARTHOMLEY. 


energetic opponents of Charles in his ill-advised proceedings, 
and who subsequently became a leading agent in bringing about 
the restoration of the Royal family. Well might it have been 
for the King, and his people, had he listened to such counsellors. 
Unhappily, he won over the Judges to subscribe opinions (in 
1635-36,) which both Sir Ranulphe and Sir Thomas Crewe had 
steadily and consistently discountenanced. These Judges, with 
the exception of two, were subsequently (in 1641,) impeached 
by the Commons, John Crewe speaking in “aggravation” of 
the charges against Chief Justice Bramston, but what he said 
has not been reported. Mr. Waller (the Poet,) speaking against 
Sir Francis Crawley. It was at this time that Mr. Denzil Hol¬ 
ies made a speech from the Commons, recommending Sir Ran¬ 
ulphe Crewe to the King by the Lords, which I have already 
given. 

The parliament of 1640 commenced with a committee of 
grievances, who appointed a sub-committee to attend to the 
complaints against the postmasters. On the 4th of August 
“various members were added to this committee, amongst 
whom were Mr. Verney, Alderman Pennington, Mr. Cromwell, 
Mr. Crewe, and other distinguished men.” 1 

May 5th, 1640, the King dissolved the parliament, and the 
next day (I will here quote Nalson’s Collection,)— 

“John Crewe Esq,, afterwards Lord Crewe, (he was Chairman to the 
Committee on Religion,) was also committed to the Tower for refusing to de¬ 
liver to the Clerk of the Parliament such Petitions and Papers as he had re¬ 
ceived, to have them forthcoming when required by a Parliament, which the 
Lords of the Council urged was according to the Practice and Course of all 
others who had served in the Chair at any Committees in former times.” 

The Editor of the Fairfax Correspondence remarks:— 

“ He was detained in the Tower until the assembling of the Long Parlia¬ 
ment approached. His firmness should be recorded to his especial honor; 
for he was offered his liberty, if he would give up the names of those de¬ 
prived clergy who had petitioned for relief, and whose only offence had been 
to decline reading the ‘ Book of Sports’ on the Sabbath.” 2 

1 Sir Ralph Verney’s Notes of the Long Parliament, page 24. 

2 Fairfax Correspondence, vol. 1. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


263 


John Crewe was one of tlie members who voted against the 
hill for the attainder of Lord Strafford, April, 1641; neither 
in Eushworth, nor in lord Strafford’s trial, is there a complete 
or accurate list of the names. 1 

On the 17th of May, 1641, we find John Crewe chairman of 
a committee of the whole house, in debating the article con¬ 
cerning uniformity in Church Government between England 
and Scotland, when it was resolved upon the question,— 

“That this House doth approve of the affection of their brethren of Scot¬ 
land in their desire of uniformity of Church Government, and doth give 
them thanks for it.” 

November 22nd, 1641, took place the memorable and stormy 
debate on the “Remonstrance,” which was to set forth the ille¬ 
galities the Commons complained of. On a division the house 
refused to restrain its publication by a majority of 121 to 101 f 
and on the 24th, during a violent uproar occasioned by a mo¬ 
tion that it should he printed, Hyde and others opposing and 
requesting liberty to protest, Jeffrey Palmer, a lawyer and 
friend of Hyde, exclaimed, “I do protest;” the members rising 
in all parts of the house echoing his words. For this Palmer 
was sent to the tower, hut the Commons refused to sanction 
his expulsion from their house. In the Yerney Papers will be 
found the only existing reports of the debates upon these stir¬ 
ring occasions, and the Editor of that volume remarks:— 

“It is unnecessary for me to point attention to the notes of the speeches 
of Crewe and the poet Waller. The occurrence of fragments of such interest 
and beauty makes one doubly regret the loss of a full report of the speeches 
of such men.” 

After a protracted debate, the house resolved—“ That Mr. 

1 Verney’s Notes, page 57. 

2 “ As the members left the house, lord Falkland asked Cromwell ‘whether there 
had been a debate?’ to which he answered, ‘that he would take his word another 
time,’ and whispered in his ear, with some asseveration, ‘that if the Remonstrance 
had been rejected, he would have sold all he had the next morning, and never seen 
England more; and he knew there were many other honest men of the same resolu¬ 
tion.’ ” “So near,” says Clarendon, “was the poor kingdom at that time to its de¬ 
liverance.” 


264 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Palmer should be required to answer the charge made against 
him.” On the next day (November 25th,) the debate was re¬ 
sumed; the following notes are all that are preserved of the 
speeches of Crewe and Waller, just referred to:— 

“ Crewe. Will interpret things doubtfull in the best sence, and though 
non can plead his merits to excuse a fault, yet, if I have received many fa¬ 
vours from a man that now doth mee injury, I shall not forget those benefits, 
but the willinger to forget the injury, and the rather in this place, because 
wee have power only to punish our owne members when they offend, but not 
reward them when they doe well. 

“Waller. Let not the successe make any man a delinquent. All our 
punishments are but the tower and the barr, and these are greate punish¬ 
ments, because they are inflicted for greate offences For a check from the 
councell table, or a sentence in the starr chamber, were, in queen Elizabeths 
time, of such repute, that non esteemed men that were soe checkd or sen¬ 
tenced, but of late these punishments have been inflicted for such small of¬ 
fences, that all men did rather valew and esteeme men as marters that suf- 
ferd in that way, then disesteem men for it. 

“Let noe man bee punished for temperance, lest we seeme to punish 
vertue.” 

John Crewe’s name appears in the “Booke of the Names of 
the Members of the House of Commons that advance Horse, 
Money, and Plate, for the Defence of the Parliament, June 
10th, 11th, &c., 1642.” This was at the outset of the civil war, 
when the peril of an approaching collision in the field between 
the King and Parliament was hourly becoming more imminent. 
The House of Commons had passed a resolution inviting vo¬ 
luntary aid “for the defence of Parliament;” (or, in the lan¬ 
guage of one of the patriot contributors, “for maintenance of 
the true Protestant religion, the defence of the King’s person, 
his royall authoritie and dignitie, our lawes, liberties, and privi¬ 
leges conjunctively.”) It is stated “Mr. Crewe will bring in 
two hundred pounds in plate, and mainteyne fower horses.” 
He was one of the largest contributors. 

In Jany., 1645, he was appointed one of the Parliament 
Commissioners to treat with the King’s Commissioners at Ux¬ 
bridge; and also in February, 1646, he was appointed by parlia- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


265 


ment one of the Commissioners to treat with the King for 
Peace, who met his Majesty at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and ac¬ 
companied him thence to Holdenby, in Northamptonshire. 

Clarendon remarks:— 

“ Pierpoint and Crewe, who were both men of great fortunes, and had al¬ 
ways been of the greatest moderation in their counsels, and most solicitous 
upon all opportunities for peace, appeared now to have contracted more bit¬ 
terness and sourness than formerly; and were more reserved towards the 
King’s Commissioners than was expected; and in all conferences insisted 
peremptorily, ‘that the King must yield to whatsoever was demanded in the 
three demands which had been debated.’ They all valued themselves ‘upon 
having induced the Parliament, against all opposition, to consent to a treaty; 
which producing no effect, they should hereafter have no more credit ’” 

Sept. 2, 1648, Mr. Crewe was again one of the Commis¬ 
sioners appointed by Parliament to treat with the King in 
the Isle of Wight, about a National Peace; and afterwards, be¬ 
cause he did not come up to the wishes of the republicans, who 
knew that he would not vote for trying the King as a criminal, 
he was excluded the parliament. 1 

The utter failure of the negotiations with the King; the 
extreme measures resorted to by Cromwell and his party, or 
associates, (designated Independents, and separated from the 
Presbyterians, with whom they had heretofore acted,) which 
led to the King’s death—the dissensions which afterwards 
grew up among the commonwealth men, occasioning distrust, 
suffering, and disquietude throughout the country, it would re¬ 
quire more time and space to review than I purpose to give. 
Suffice it to say, that all contemporary authorities concur in re¬ 
presenting that, about the year 1660, the popular feeling set in 
so strongly in favour of the return to Monarchy as to assume 
the predominance of a national sentiment. Sir John Bramston 
describes the Restoration as the result of the universal distrac¬ 
tion, and of the common desire of the people for repose:— 

“It was the Cavalier party,” he says, “the loyal gentry, that brought 
him home in truth; for by their constancy to his interest, after plotting and 


1 Noble’s Memoirs of Cromwell. 


266 


BARTHOMLEY. 


contriving his restitution, though with the loss of their fortunes and hazard 
of their lives, together with the quarrels and differences amongst the great 
officers of the armies, and the general unsatisfaction of the people, tired with 
the oppressions and change of their governors, and the endless dividing into 
sects and factions, the whole nation was desirous of the King’s return, with¬ 
out whom they see there would be no end of war and trouble.” 1 

John Crewe’s eldest daughter, Jemimah, married Sir Edward 
Montague, afterwards created Earl of Sandwich, and Lord 
High Admiral, and who acted a conspicuous part in bringing 
about the Restoration. Sir Edward, in March, 1659, was ap¬ 
pointed one of the Generals at Sea, and elected one of the 
Council of State; he, shortly afterwards, had the honour of 
bringing Charles the Second home, in the Naseby. In the mi¬ 
nute and honest Diary of Samuel Pepys, Sir Edward’s cousin, 
who was through him appointed Secretary to the Generals of 
the Fleet, and afterwards Secretary to the Admiralty, there are 
most interesting notices of occurrences, conveying opinions pre¬ 
vailing at this important crisis. 1660, Jany. 16, Pepys writes,— 

“In the morning I went up to Mr. Crewe’s, who did talk to me concern¬ 
ing things of State; and expressed his mind how just it was that the seclud¬ 
ed members should come to sit again.” Feby 19—“ There is great likeli¬ 
hood that the secluded members will come in, and so Mr. Crewe and my 
Lord are likely to be great men. After dinner there was many secluded 
members come in to Mr. Crewe, which, it being the Lords day, did make Mr- 
Moore believe that there was something extraordinary in the business.” 
March 13th—“At my Lord’s lodgings, who told me that I was to be Secre¬ 
tary, and Crewe deputy treasurer to the Fleet, Things seem very doubtful 
what will be the end of all; for the Parliament seems to be strong for the 
King, which the Soldiers do all talk against.” 

The following extract will serve to carry on our narrative:— 

“The Secluded Members having forced themselves into the House, took 
upon them the authority of Parliament; and having forbidden the Council to 
sit, chose one to supply their place, which was composed of Mr. Denzil Holies, 
Mr. Crewe,” and others. “ The Act for the Militia being passed, the Com¬ 
mand of all the Forces and Garrisons settled on Monk, and the Fleet in his 
Power in conjunction with Col. Montague, the pretended Parliament autho¬ 
rised their Council of State to provide for the Publick safety on all Kmer- 

1 Autobiography of Sir John Bramston, page 117. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


267 


gencies, and to dispose Affairs as they should think fit till the meeting of the 
next Parliament, which being done, and the House ready to pass the Act for 
their Dissolution, Mr. Crewe, who had been as forward as any Man in begin¬ 
ning and carrying on the War against the last King, moved, that before they 
dissolved themselves they would bear their witness against the horrid Mur¬ 
der, as he called it, of the King. This unexpected Motion prevailed with 
many then present to deny their concurrence to that act against the King.” 1 

Writing at the Hague, on board the Naseby, Pepys remarks: 

May 23rd.—“In the morning came infinity of people on board from the 
King to go along with him. My Lord, Mr. Crewe, and others, go on shore 
to meet the King as he comes off from shore.” 

I have already remarked that for the aid he had rendered in 
promoting the Restoration John Crewe was created Baron 
Crewe of Steane, with succession to heirs male of his hodj^. 
The circumstance is thus noticed by Evelyn, who states that— 

“1661, April 22, was ye splendid cavalcade of his Majestie from the Tower 
to Whitehall, where I saw him in the banquetting house create 6 Earls and 
as many Barons. The Barons were Denzil Holies, Cornwallis, Booth, 
Townsend, Cooper, Crewe.” 

Immediately after the Restoration his town residence be¬ 
came the resort of many of the leading politicians of the day, 
and where Pepys appears to he at home in the family circle of 
the Crewes. 

“1662, Sept. 24th. To my Lord Crewe’s, and there dined alone with him, 
and among other things, he do advise me by all means to keep my Lord 
Sandwich from proceeding too far in the business of Tangier,” &c. 

“1663, May 7th. To my Lord Crewe’s, and there dined with him. He 
tells me of the order the House of Commons have made for the drawing 
an Act for the rendering none capable of preferment or employment in the 
State, but who have been loyall and constant to the King and Church; 
which will be fatal to a great many.” 

“ 1663, July 22nd. To my Lord Crewe’s. My Lord not being come 
home, I met and staid below with Capt. Ferrers, who was to wait upon my 
Lady Jemimah to St. James’s, she being one of the four ladies that hold up 
the mantle at the christening this afternoon of the Duke’s child (a boy.)” 

“ 1666, May 15th. To my Lord Crewe’s, who is very lately come to town, 
and he talked for half an hour of the business of the warr, wherein he is very 


1 Memoirs of Edmund Ludlow. 


268 


BARTHOMLEY. 


doubtful, from our want of money, that we shall fail. And I do concur with 
him therein.” 

“ 1666, Nov. 5th. To my Lord Crewe’s, and there dined, and mightly 
made of. Here my Lord, and Sir Thomas Crewe, Mr. John, and Dr. Crewe,i 
and two strangers. The best family in the world for goodness and sobriety. 
After dinner (and this discourse) I took coach; and at the same time find 
Lord Hinchingbroke and Mr. John Crewe and the Doctor going out to see 
the ruins of the city; so I took the Doctor into my hackney-coach (and he is a 
very fine sober gentleman,) and so through the city. But, Lord! what pret¬ 
ty and sober observations he made of the city and its desolation; till anon 
we come to my house, and there I took them upon Tower-Hill to shew them 
what were pulled down there since the fire; and then to my house, where I 
treated them with good wine of several sorts, and they took it mighty re¬ 
spectfully, and a fine company of gentlemen they are.” 

“Nov. 27, 1666. To my Lord Crewe, and had some good discourse with 
him, he doubting that all will break in pieces in the kingdom; and that the 
taxes now coming out, which will tax the same man in three or four several 
capacities, as for land, office, profession, and money at interest, will be the 
hardest that ever came out; and do think that we owe it, and the lateness of 
its being given, wholly to the unpreparedness of the King’s own party, to 
make their demand and choice; for they have obstructed the giving it by 
land-tax, which had been done long since.” 

“ Nov. 28, 1666. To White Hall; where, though it blows hard and rains 
hard, yet the Duke of York is gone a hunting. We therefore lost our labour, 
and so to get things ready against dinner at home, and at noon comes my 
Lord Hinchingbroke, Sir Thomas Crewe, Mr. John Crewe, Mr. Carteret, and 
Brisband. I had six noble dishes for them, dressed by a man-cook, and 
commended, as indeed they deserved, for exceeding well done. We eat with 
pleasure, and I enjoyed myself in it; eating in silver plates, and all things 
mighty rich and handsome about me. Till dark at dinner, and then broke 
up with great pleasure, especially to myself; and they away, only Mr. Car¬ 
teret and I to Gresham College.” 

“ 1666, December 28. I to my Lord Crewe’s, where I find and hear the 
news how my Lord’s brother, Mr. Nathanael Crewe, hath an estate of 6 or 
<£700 per annum left him by the death of an old acquaintance of his, but not 
akin to him at all. And this man is dead without will, but had above ten 
years since made over his estate to this Mr. Crewe, to him and his heirs for 
ever, and given Mr. Crewe the keeping of the deeds in his own hands all this 
time; by which, if he would, he might have taken present possession of the 
estate, for he knew what they were. This'is as great an action of confident 
friendship as this latter age, I believe, can show.” 

“ 1667, May 1st. To Westminster. My Lord Crewe walked with me, 


BARTHOMLEY. 


269 


giving me an account of the Meeting of the Commissioners for Accounts, 
whereof he is one.” 

“ December 2nd. To Lord Crewe’s, where, after dinner, he took me aside 
and bewailed the condition of the nation, now the King and his brother are 
at a distance about this business of the Chancellor, and the two Houses dif¬ 
fering : among other things, my Lord Crewe did tell me with grief that he 
hears that the King of late hath not dined nor supped with the Queene, as 
he used of late to do.” 

“January 1st, 1667-8. Dined with my Lord Crewe, with whom was Mr. 
Browne, Clerk of the House of Lords, and Mr. John Crewe. Here was 
mighty good discourse, as there is always: and among other things my Lord 
Crewe did turn to a place in the Life of Sir Philip Sidney, wrote by Sir 
Fulke Greville, which do foretell the present condition of this nation, in re¬ 
lation to the Dutch, to the very degree of a prophecy; and is so remarkable 
that I am resolved to buy one of them, it being quite through a good dis¬ 
course. Here they did talk much of the present cheapness of corne, even to 
a miracle; so as their farmers can pay no rent, but do fling up their lands; 
and would pay in come: but (which I did observe to my Lord, and he liked 
well of it) our gentry are grown so ignorant in every thing of good husban¬ 
dry that they know not how to bestow this come; which, did they under¬ 
stand but a little trade, they would he able to joyne together and know what 
markets there are abroad, and send it thither, and thereby ease their tenants 
and be able to pay themselves. They did talk much of the disgrace the 
Archbishop is fallen under with the King, and the rest of the Bishops also.” 

“April 3, 1667. Thence to the chapel, and there by chance hear that Dr. 
Crewe is to preach; and so into the organ loft, where I met Mr. Carteret, 
and my Lady Jemimah, and Sir Thomas Crewe’s two daughters, and Dr. 
Childe playing: and Dr. Crewe did make a very pretty, neat, sober, honest 
sermon; and delivered it very readily, decently, and gravely, beyond his 
years: so I was exceedingly taken with it, and I believe the whole chapel, he 
being but young; but his manner of delivery I do like exceedingly. His 
text was, “But first seeke the kingdom of God, and all things shall be added 
unto you.” 

“1668, May 8. To my Lord Crew r e’s, and there dined; where Mr. Case 
the Minister, a dull fellow in his talk, and all in the Presbyterian manner; 
a great deal of noise and a kind of religious tone, but very dull. After din¬ 
ner my Lord and I together. He tells me he hears that there are great dis¬ 
putes like to be at Court between the factions of the two women, my Lady 
Castlemaine and Mrs. Stewart. He believes all will come to ruin.” 

“ 1669, May 10. To White Hall, and thence walked to my Lord Crewe, 
whom I have not seen since he was sick, which is eight months ago, I think, 
and there dined with him. He is mightily broke/’ 


270 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


Lord Crewe died Dec. 12th, 1679, in the 81st year of 
his age. 1 —He married Jemimah, daughter and co-lieiress 
of Edward Waldegrave, of Lawford, in Essex, Esquire, by 
whom he had six sons—Thomas, John, Edward, Samuel, Na¬ 
thanael, and Walgrave, and two daughters, Jemimah, and Anne. 2 

Yours, &c. 

1 Lord Crewe was succeeded in his title and estates by his eldest son,— 

Sir Thomas Crewe, whom we find representing the county of Northampton, in 
parliament, in the year 1656; returned for Brackley, 1659—re-elected 1660, and 
1661; and again in 1678; he died November 30, 1697, aged 73. He married, first, 
Mary, eldest daughter of Sir Roger Townshend, of Raynham, co. Norfolk, by whom 
he had three children: John, who died at the early age of 15; Anne, married to 
John JolifFe, of Coston, co. Stafford, Esquire; Temperance, married to Sir Rowland 
Alston, of Odell Castle, Baronet, co. Bedford, whom she survived, and again mar¬ 
ried Sir John Wolstenholme, of Enfield, co. Middlesex, Baronet. Sir Thomas Crewe 
married, secondly, Anne, daughter and co-heiress of Sir William Armine, of 
Osgodley, co. Lincoln, Baronet, widow of Sir Thomas Woodhouse, Bart., by whom 
he had four daughters: (1,) Jemima, married to Henry Grey, Duke of Kent; (2,) 
Armine, married to Thomas Cartwright, of Aynho, Esquire; (3,) Elizabeth, mar¬ 
ried to Charles Butler, Earl of Arran, in Ireland, and Baron Butler of Weston, in 
England; (4,) and Catherine, married to Sir John Harpur, of Calke Abbey, co. 
Derby, Baronet, ancestor of the present Sir John Harpur Crewe, Bart. 

John, (Lord Crewe’s second son,) of Newbold Vernon, co. of Leicester, died, un¬ 
married, in France, Sept., 1681, set 53. 

Edward, died, unmarried, about the year 1680. 

Samuel, who took holy orders, died, M.A., unmarried, 1661. 

Nathanael, who became Bishop of Durham, and, surviving his brothers, suc¬ 
ceeded to the title, being the 3rd and last Baron Crewe, of Steane. 

Walgrave, of Hinton, married (1670,) Susanna, daughter of Robert Mellor, of 

Derby, Esq.;- 1673, aged 36, leaving one son, Walgrave, of Gray’s Inn, co. 

Middlesex, who died 1694. 

2 Anne married Sir Harry Wright, M.P. for Harwich, and resided at Dagenham, 
Essex ; he was created a Baronet by Cromwell, 1658, and by Charles II., 1660, 




BARTHOMLEY. 


271 


LETTER XIX. 


MY DEAR BOY. 



E now come to one who, as a politician, bishop, 
and a munificent benefactor to many, has a 
right to a more perfect notice than I can give. 
Unfortunately, his own journal, or private diary, 


has been lost, 1 from the pages of which we might, otherwise, 
have extracted some valuable information; and this loss is aug¬ 
mented by the blind spirit of party, which so strongly preju¬ 
diced the opinions of some, if not all his contemporaries, who 
wrote of him, that we must receive their statements with con¬ 
siderable doubts. We will endeavour to turn bad materials 
to good account, and to gather, from what appears to be fact, 
as much of the true character of Nathanael Crewe as we can. 

He was the fifth son of John Crewe, the first Baron 
Crewe of Steane, was horn at Steane, January 31st, 1633, six 
hours before the death of his grandfather, Sir Thomas Crewe, 
who by his last will bequeathed a legacy of one hundred 
pounds to all his grand-children, and named them. Nathanael, 
however, is not mentioned therein, since, in all probability, his 
birth could hardly have been made known to his grandfather; 
nevertheless, the heir at law, John Crewe, honourably gave Na¬ 
thanael the same sum of money which his brothers and sisters 
had received; and I may here observe that, further on in life, 
fortune seemed to favour him, for honours and wealth, from a 

1 When Bishop Crewe was preparing to go abroad, after the accession of William 
III., he committed the care of his library, manuscripts, and other valuables, to 
his chaplain, Dr. Ayres, who lodged them, it is stated, in the house of his tailor, for 
greater safety from the inquisitors, as he hoped; but the tailor getting into difficulties 
his creditors seized all he had, unknown to Dr, Ayres, who died soon afterwards. It 
is believed that no part whatever was recovered. 





272 


BARTHOMLEY. 


two-fold source, were poured in upon him, and, as we shall see 
in the course of our account of him, proved to him, as they 
have generally proved to others, “Vanity and vexation of spirit.” 

Of his earlier days, when a school-hoy at Chenies, some re¬ 
collections have been preserved. 1 It is related of him that he 
was remarkable for quickness of perception, and that he was 
distinguished, beyond his fellows, not only by his sprightly ge¬ 
nius, but by his great diligence; that, not unfrequently, he 
would be observed neglecting the amusements of the play¬ 
ground, and, for the purposes of reading and study, seeking the 
quietude of the adjacent groves. In the year 1642, Steane hav¬ 
ing been plundered by the king’s forces, the family removed 
to London, and Nathanael was placed at a school near Temple 
Bar; at this period he attracted the notice of some as a clever 
mimic, and by his recitations from Terence, whom he was ear¬ 
ly master of. This author he was fond of quoting ever after¬ 
wards. In reply to a remark of his father’s, that he should be 
head of a house, he said, “that was only for old men;” but, he 
added, that he would “be a schoolmaster.” That he possessed 
more than ordinary abilities, and was at the same time dis¬ 
tinguished for his activity and application, there can be no 
doubt, and, accordingly, his professional career was rapid and 
fortunate; aided by a remarkable elegance of manners, and a 
pleasing countenance and figure; not unimportant advantages 
to one of his aspiring disposition. 

At the age of nineteen Nathanael Crewe proceeded to Ox¬ 
ford, and, in the year 1652, was admitted a commoner of Lin¬ 
coln college; Bernard, 2 of Brazen-nose, and a fellow of Lin¬ 
coln college, being his tutor. He took the degree of B.A. 1st 
Feby., 1655-6, soon after which he was chosen fellow of his 
college. On the 29th of June, 1658, he took the degree of M.A. 
In 1663 he was one of the proctors of the University, and on 

1 Contemporary Memoirs of Bp. Crewe. 

2 Bernard’s mother was a daughter of Dr. Heylin, and it is related that he turned 
his mother and sister papists. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


273 


the 2nd July of the following year, 1664, he took the degree of 
LL.D., and shortly afterwards was admitted into holy orders 
by Morley, Bishop of Winchester. August 12, 1688, he was 
elected Hector of Lincoln college, upon the decease of Dr. P. 
Hood. 

His early days at Oxford were not entirely devoted to the 
study of the classics, The natural sciences had a share of his 
attention, and under Peter Sthael, of Strasburgh, the noted 
chemist and Rosicrucian, he made considerable progress in 
them. Music, also, occupied the lighter portions of his time: 
it had become ‘ the fashion’ in the University in consequence 
of many organists and music masters flocking there, who had 
lost their places elsewhere through the ascendancy of the anti- 
church party. The chief manager of the concerts, frequently 
held at Oxford (weekly meetings occurring at the house of Wil¬ 
liam Ellis,) was the facetious, learned, and loyal Antony a 
Wood, who enumerates the several performers, specifies their 
instruments, and mentions their degrees of skill. Of Nathanael 
Crewe he says:— 

“Nathanael Crewe, M.A., Fellow of Lincoln college, a violinist and a vio¬ 
list, but alwaies played out of tune, as having no good eare.” 

A man may have, nevertheless, a love for music without a good 
ear for it, and when Bishop of Durham, he greatly encouraged 
church-music, although this might be on account of the eccle¬ 
siastical principles he then professed. 

He was not always an Episcopalian and High-churchman. 

In the year 1659, Antony a Wood relates that.— 

“Feby. 11. Nath: Crewe, M.A., and Fellow of Line. coll, brought to 
A. W. a Petition, to present to the Parliament against standing Visitors in 
the University: to which upon his desire, he (Antony a Wood,) set his 
hand, &c. The Independents, who called themselves now the Godly party, 
drew up another Petition, contrary to the former, and said, ’twas for the 
cause of Christ, &c. No person was more, ready than Crewe, a Presbyterian, 
to have the Visitors put down, notwithstanding, he had before submitted to 
them, and had paid to them reverence and obedience.” 1 


L 1 


1 Ant, 4 Wood, pp. 116-17. 


274 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Thus we find that extremes will sometimes meet, and as it 
will appear in Nathanael’s case, that a proselyte too often be¬ 
comes an intolerant bigot. 

On the Bestoration he heartily joined in the general de¬ 
claration in favour of the Crown and Hierarchy, and became 
a devoted adherent of the Stuarts. Whilst serving the office 
of senior Proctor he had the honour and gratification of re¬ 
ceiving his restored Sovereign and Court, (August, 1663,) and 
addressed the King in the public library. On being presented 
to the King, Charles was much pleased with the agreeable 
manners and conversation of the young ecclesiastic; indeed, 
when listening to his oration at the University, it is stated, 
that his majesty was prepossessed by his recommendatory 
countenance and handsome person, and expressed his satisfac¬ 
tion in seeing a gentleman undertake the service of the Church, 
(for it was not then common for men of good family to do so,) 
and promised him his particular care. 

In 1668 he experienced the first fruits of royal favour in 
being appointed Clerk of the Closet. A contemporary writer 
states that:— 

“His court behaviour was such as won the surprise and admiration of 
all; and soon, with his extraordinary diligence, introduced him into the fa¬ 
vour of the King and his Royal brother. As my Lord was in himself agreea¬ 
ble and comely, so his duty and behaviour were so acceptable to his Majes¬ 
ty, that he kept him constantly near his Royal person. Their affections 
seemed mutual, for he was not only admitted to public councils, but in many 
private consultations and recesses. For some time, none was regarded there 
but my Lord. His family honourable before, was by him, if possible, more 
enobled.” 

On the 29th April, 1669, he was installed Dean of Chiches¬ 
ter, and held, with that dignity, the Precentorship in which he 
had been installed the day before. Some considerable fines, 
on renewals, shortly afterwards fell into his hands, the greater 
part of which he gave to public and charitable uses. In the 
following year he refused the office of Vice-Chancellor of Ox¬ 
ford, on the ground that it would interfere too much with his 


BARTHOMLEY. 


275 


attendance at Court. On the translation of Dr. Blandford to 
the See of Worcester, in 1671, he was elected Bishop of Ox¬ 
ford in his room, on the 16th June, being the first instance 
of a person of a noble family being made a bishop since the 
Beformation. He was confirmed on the 27th June, in the 
church of the Savoy, Bishop Cosin officiating; his consecra¬ 
tion took place on the 2nd July following, and he was en- 
thronized the 5th of the same month, being allowed to hold 
with the bishoprick the living of Whitney, in commendam. On 
the occasion of his promotion he gave the customary installation 
feast, at which the Duke of Ormonde, and Lord Sandwich, the 
Admiral, (his brother-in-law,) were present. Immediately after 
relating this circumstance, the writer of the contemporary me¬ 
moir of Bishop Crewe adds, that Bishop Cosin told him (Crewe) 
“he would succeed him as Bishop of Durham, though he would 
be thought too young.” That pious prelate entertained a most 
friendly regard for Crewe. 

On the 18th October, 1672, he resigned the Bectorship of 
Lincoln college, but continued to hold the Bectory of Whitney. 

The friendship that had long subsisted between the Duke of 
York and Bishop Crewe may be regarded, by some, as a suffi¬ 
cient apology for the latter solemnizing the marriage of his 
Boyal Highness with the Princess Mary D’Este; but that it 
was an extremely impolitic and indiscreet, nay, a wrong pro¬ 
ceeding, there cannot be a doubt; the Princess being a Boman 
Catholic, and the House of Commons having addressed the 
King and protested against the marriage. Indeed, most of the 
Court were so alarmed with the opposition of the Commons to 
the marriage, (even the King himself was not wholly exempt 
from apprehension,) that— 

“ Few or none of them accompanied the Duke down to Dover, when he 
went to meet his new Duchess, who landed there upon the 21st of Novem¬ 
ber, and none of the Bishops, hut Doctor Crewe Bishop of Oxford, (after¬ 
wards Bishop of Durham,) offered to attend his R. H. to perform the part of 
declaring the marriage, according to the usual form in cases of the like na- 


276 


BARTHOMLEY. 


ture; which the Bishop performed in the manner following: The Duke and 
Duchess of York with the Duchess of Modena her Mother, being together in 
a room where all the company was present, as was also my Lord Peterbo- 
row, the Bishop asked the Duchess of Modena and the Earl of Peterborow, 
Whither the said Earl had married the Duchess of York, as Proxy of the 
Duke? Which they both affirming, the Bishop then declared, it was a law¬ 
ful marriage.” 1 

Long prior to this marriage, however, it is believed that the 
Duke of York had secretly become a Roman Catholic, for it is 
related that Bishop Crewe remonstrated with the Duke on his 
marked absence from the royal chapel, on the principal festivals 
in the year 1671 or 1672; and that upon the Prince acknow¬ 
ledging to him his conversion to the Church of Rome, Crewe 
said, that “Whoever had advised him thereto was not his 
grace’s friend.” 

Surtees, in his history of Durham, says that:— 

“The Duke’s interest, which was secured by this transaction, (the mar¬ 
riage with the Princess of Modena,) and perhaps some more secret influence, 
soon afterwards procured Crewe’s translation to the vacant See of Durham.” 

Now, there is much discrepancy in the dates given with regard 
to this preferment, which had been kept vacant ever since the 
death of Bp. Cosin, Jan. 15, 1672. Surtees states, in another 
place, that it was in the month of Oct., 1673, that Crewe was 
translated to the rich northern bishopric, and it should be ob¬ 
served that the marriage of his royal friend to the Princess 
Mary was not solemnized until the 21st of the following month. 
Hutchinson, usually very accurate, says, in his history, that he 
was translated 22nd Oct., 1674, and that date I believe to he 
correct. 2 Sandford, however, states that the marriage was so¬ 
lemnized “by Doctor Nathanael Crewe, Bishop of Durham.” 
However, on the 9th of June, 1675, Nathanael, Bishop of Dur¬ 
ham, “made a very triumphant” entry into his diocese, and was 
everywhere most favourably received. 

1 Clarke’s Life of James the Second, vol. 1 . p. 486. 

“ It is related, that on Crewe’s promotion to the See of Durham, the Lord-Keep¬ 
er Finch said, on reluctantly passing the seals, “Sure this will stop your mouth for 
one twenty years!” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


277 


Very little doubt can be entertained but that Nathanael 
Crewe was designed for that preferment on the demise of 
Bishop Cosin, yet that a See of so much importance and 
value should have remained so long vacant needs explanation. 
Bishop Cosin died on the 15th January, 1672, (not 1671 as 
stated in Surtees’ history,) and shortly afterwards the Duke of 
York, it is related, told Crewe, who was the youngest prelate on 
the bench, and whose preferments by the royal favour had 
brought down upon him the enmity of many rivals, that “the 
bishopric of Durham was a great gift, and that he had a great 
many enemies;” to which he replied, that “he valued them 
not, whilst his Boyal Highness remained his friend.” “My 
Lord,” rejoined the Duke, “I promise you I’ll stick by you.” 

Surtees relates that:— 

“Queen Catherine was rejoiced at my Lord’s promotion. The King said 
pleasantly to her, ‘ What will the Pope think when I make Bishops of such 
as please you?’ When Bishop Crewe’s youth had been urged to the King 
as an objection to his appointment to Durham, Charles replied, ‘He would 
mend of that fault every day.’ Bishop Crewe’s high promotion and great 
ambition seem to have occasioned alarm and grief to his aged father, who, 
when the Bishop was a candidate for the primacy, prayed earnestly against 
his removal, from a sense, probably, of the difficulties in which not only his 
son, but the Church of England, might have been involved by such an ap¬ 
pointment.” 

In the beginning of the year 1675 Bp. Crewe baptized Ka¬ 
therine Laura, the new-born daughter of the Duke and Duchess 
of York. In October of the same year he was summoned to the 
death-bed of his mother, Jemimah, Lady Crewe, and read pray¬ 
ers for her departing soul. He was sworn a Privy-Councillor in 
April, 1676, and in the same year he made a visitation through 
his diocese, with great pomp. On the 8th November, 1677, at 
St. James’s Palace, he baptized Charles, the first but short¬ 
lived son of his royal friend and patron, the Duke of York. In 
that year, the Duke of Monmouth being sent as General of the 
forces against the Scottish Covenanters, Bishop Crewe, as lord 
lieutenant of the county, proceeded to his diocese, and with 


278 


BARTHOMLEY. 


great promptitude zealously raised the well-disciplined militia, 
entertaining the Duke on his progress, and again on his return. 

The growing unpopularity of the Duke of York occasioned 
his being sent to Scotland, and in November, 1679, the Duke 
and his Duchess, journeying thither, were the guests of Bishop 
Crewe, in his palatial castle of Durham. It is related that 
“ the Duke kissed my Lord at his coming; a particular mark 
of favour.” 

On Sunday, the 25th January, 1685, in Lambeth Chapel, he 
took part in the consecration of Thomas Ken, Bishop of Bath 
and Wells; and on the 6th February he received the painful 
and unexpected summons to attend the death-bed of Charles 
the Second. 1 On the accession of James II., Crewe, as Bishop 
of Durham, supported the King’s right hand at the coronation; 2 
and he appears to have retained his influence, and continued in 
great favour with that prince, who displaced Compton, Bishop 
of London, from his office of Dean of the Chapel Royal, and 
(Dec. 29th,) appointed Bishop Crewe in his room. On the 8tli 
Jany. he was sworn one of the Privy Council; but the open 
adherence of the King to the tenets of the Church of Rome, 
prevented Crewe from officiating as his chaplain. 

In 1688 he was appointed one of the Commissioners of the 
New Ecclesiastical Commission, but without being consulted, 
yet he seemed proud of that honour. 3 By virtue of that com- 

1 “Those who assisted his Majesty’s devotions were, the Archbishop of Canter¬ 
bury, the Bishops of London, Durham, and Ely, but more especially Dr. Ken, 
Bishop of Bath and Wells.”— Evelyn's Diary. 

2 “The Bishop of Durham and the Bishop of Bath and Wells claim jointly 
of old custom to assist or support the King in his procession; the first walking on 
his right hand, the latter on his left. So early as the reign of Richard I. we find 
the predecessors of these prelates in the enjoyment of this distinction; but the man¬ 
ner or time of their obtaining it has not been brought to light .”—The Glory of Re¬ 
gality, by Arthur Taylor, 1820, page 133, Of certain particular Services usually claimed 
and performed at Coronations. 

8 “ He was lifted up by it, and said that now his name would be recorded in his¬ 
tory ; and when some of his friends represented to him the danger of acting in a 
court so illegally constituted, he said, he could not live if he should lose the King’s 
gracious smiles; so low and so fawning was he.”— Bp. Burnet, History of his own 
Times, 1724, vol. i, p. 676. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


279 


mission he appeared, on the 9th August, at the proceedings 
against Henry, Bishop of London, and was for suspending him 
during the king’s pleasure; the Earl, and Bishop of Rochester, 
and Chief Justice Herbert, being against it; the Bishop of 
Rochester was the only other prelate then present. After 
Bishop Compton’s suspension, commissioners were appointed, 
Bishop Crewe being one, to exercise all manner of ecclesiasti¬ 
cal jurisdiction within the diocese of London. The 20th of 
November following he was present at, and consenting to, the 
degradation of Mr. Samuel Johnson, previous to the most se¬ 
vere punishment which was inflicted on that eminent divine. 1 
In the beforementioned quality of ecclesiastical commissioner 
he countenanced, by his presence, a prosecution carried on in 
May, 1687, against Dr. Peachey, Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge, 
for refusing to admit one Alban Francis, a Benedictine Monk, 
to the degree of M.A. of that University, without taking the 
oaths. It is also related, that in July of the same year he of¬ 
fered to attend the Pope’s Nuncio at his public entry into Lon¬ 
don, but that his coachman refused to drive him that way. 
This is probably a fiction. The Nuncio, who had been long 
resident in England, was presented at Windsor, June 3rd, when 
he had audience of the King and Queen. Sir John Bramston 
states that:— 

“ He was conducted to the Castle hv 36 coaches, 6 horses each. He him¬ 
self, Sir Charles Cotterill the Master of Ceremonies, and the Duke of Grafton 
in the King’s coach; his own coach empty followed next, then 2 more of his 
own coaches followed, wherein were ten priests. The Bishop of Durham’s 
coach was in the traine, but the Bishop was not there, as I was told by one 
that did see the company.” 2 

His name was put again in a new ecclesiastical commission 
issued out this year, in October, in wbicli lie acted dining the 

1 “After the Revolution, the judgment pronounced on him was voted by the 
House of Commons to be illegal and cruel. Crewe, Bishop of Durham, one of the 
commissioners who deprived him, made him a considerable compensation in mo¬ 
ney .”—Sir James Mackintosh's Miscellaneous Works , vol. 2, p. 87. 

3 Autobiography of Sir John Bramston, p. 280. 


280 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


severe proceedings against Magdalene college, Oxford, for re¬ 
fusing to elect one Anthony Farmer their president, pursuant 
to the King’s mandate. The Bishop continued acting as an ec¬ 
clesiastical commissioner until 1688, when that commission 
was abolished. It is stated, however, and by one well acquainted 
with him, that he took no part in other oppressive proceed¬ 
ings of that obnoxious tribunal. 

Smollet remarks that Crewe gave every effect in his power 
to the King’s Declaration for Liberty of Conscience, and sus¬ 
pended thirty clergymen in his diocese who refused to read it 
to their flocks. Some of the Bishops were sent to the Tower, 
but were afterwards acquitted. Echard says:— 

“While the Archbishop and other pious divines were promoting the good 
of the Church and Publick, some few Bishops were moving in another road, 
who instead of following the Example of their persecuted Brethren, had 
publish’d and read the Declaration , even after the acquittal of those Heroes. 
The Bishop of Durham was thought so blameable in that point, that it gave 
an occasion to a report, that upon that account he suspended thirty Ministers 
of his Diocese, and amongst them one of his own Chaplains, but this after¬ 
wards appeared to be altogether false.” 

On Father Petre being sworn of the Privy Council Crewe 
very properly withdrew from its deliberations. Burnet states 
that Father Petre had gained an ascendancy over the King; 
if so, James very soon relinquished him in order to obtain the 
return of Bishop Crewe to his councils. 

Towards the end of the year 1687 he was employed with the 
Bishops of Rochester and Peterborough to draw up a form of 
thanksgiving for the Queen’s being with child. Thus he com¬ 
plied with the King’s designs till he found that the Prince of 
Orange’s party was, likely to prevail; but then he absented 
himself from the Council-board, and told the Archbishop of 
Canterbury that he was sorry for having so long concurred 
with the court, and desired now to be reconciled to his grace 
and the other bishops. Moreover, in a convention that met 
January 22nd, 1688-9, to consider of filling the throne, he was 


BARTHOMLEY. 


281 


one of those who voted, on 6th Feby., that King Janies II. had 
abdicated the kingdom. Notwithstanding all this, his thorough 
compliance 1 with the late court’s arbitrary designs had rendered 
him so obnoxious to the nation, that he wa& excepted by name 
out of the pardon granted by King William and Queen Mary, 
May 20, 1690, which so terrified him that he absconded for a 
time, going beyond the sea; 2 and offered to compound by re¬ 
signing his bishopric. He repaired to Holland, and remained 
abroad from February to the month of July. He was accom¬ 
panied by his nephew, James Montague, by his servant Carter, 
who was acquainted with the Dutch language, and by John 
Turner, a fellow of St. John’s, Cambridge, who was “a face¬ 
tious man.” The voyage was not without its incident; the 
sailors having lost their reckoning, they were tossed about for five 
days in a storm, and Bishop Crewe himself took the compass 
and steered the vessel into the Brill. However, he found means 
soon afterwards to make peace and preserve his bishopric; but 
in order to secure to himself the possession of that dignity he was 
forced to permit the Crown to dispose of, or at least to nomi¬ 
nate to, his Prebends of Durham, as they should become vacant. 

1 “ He shewed such a thorough compliance with all the measures and wishes of 
the Duke of York, and his party, that even his own father, old Lord Crewe, who 
had some Puritan blood in his veins, was so much ashamed, or oflended, at his son’s 
conduct, that he never sat in the House of Lords after his son entered it.” 

2 This particular is variously related by two of our historians. Kennett says:— 

“ The Bishop of Durham had paid so much court to the King, and to the very 
Nuncio of the Pope, that he despaired of any favour at the Revolution; and he was 
once got beyond the sea in a fright, but being brought back by the importunity of a 
domestic servant, he made a new interest in the new court and parliament, and 
bought off the complaints of Mr. Samuel Johnson and others who had suffered by 
him.” Burnet writes thus:—“The poor Bishop of Durham, who had absconded 
for some time, and was waiting for a ship to get beyond the sea, fearing the public 
affronts, and had offered to compound by resigning his bishopric, was now prevailed 
on to come, and by voting for the new settlement to merit at least a pardon for all 
that he had done, which, all things considered, was thought very indecent in him, 
yet not unbecoming the rest of his life and character.” He did not attempt to go 
beyond the sea till after he was excepted out of the act of indemnity, so that Burnet 
is in error in that particular. 


282 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Burnet, Bisliop of Salisbury, expected to profit by the ruin of 
Crewe, and be was not careful to conceal bis longing desire and 
expectation of being bis successor; indeed, be already looked 
on the bishopric of Durham as in bis grasp; bis disappoint¬ 
ment at Crewe’s return w T as therefore great, and it seems be 
could not help manifesting it. 1 

Bishop Crewe presents the remarkable instance, the first in 
England, of the union of spiritual and temporal peerages. On 
the death of bis last surviving brother, Thomas lord Crewe, 
Nov. 30th, 1697, be succeeded to the paternal honours and es¬ 
tates, becoming Baron Crewe of Steane, and was summoned to 
parliament both as baron and bishop, voting in either capacity 
as be thought proper. Thus inheriting the ancient mansion- 
house of Steane, be made it bis place of residence during a part 
of every succeeding year, maintaining likewise a hospitable es¬ 
tablishment at Newbold Verdon, as well as at bis episcopal pa¬ 
laces of Durham and Auckland. 

The home-life of official men frequently affords a strong con¬ 
trast to their public one. It was so with Bishop Crewe: whilst 
he appears the restless and aspiring and weak-principled eccle¬ 
siastic, with hardly a limit to his ambition; envied, for his 
greatness, by those about him, and with scarcely a sincere 
friend in that brilliant court-circle he seemed so delighted to 
move in; we find him, in all the relations of private life, to 
have been beloved, honoured, and respected; and, from the evi¬ 
dence before us, deservedly so. 

An early disappointment had, for some years, caused him to 
dismiss from his mind all thoughts of matrimony; but it does not 
appear that he was, thereby, rendered wholly indifferent to the 
attractions of married life, although it was late when he shewed 
this. “His first love,” and that in the period of his youth, was 
the daughter of Dr. Crofts, Bishop of Hereford; her portion 
was fixed (T3,000), and other preliminary arrangements made, 

1 W. S. Gibson’s Visit to Bamburgh Castle. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


283 


but the lady died before the nuptials could be celebrated. This 
he felt acutely, and he had reached the mature age of 51 before 
he again entertained the thought of a wife; he then “ courted 
Lady Johanna Thornhill”; the result is not recorded, but he 
continued unmarried. Seven years later he sought the hand 
and heart of a fair lady, reputed a beauty, 1 of his own diocese, 
Dorothea, daughter of Sir William Forster, of Bamburgh. The 
suit, however, it is remarked, “went off to the public view, as 
if she refused, being too young.” The Bishop was not dis¬ 
heartened, for on the 21st December, 1691, he was married to 
Penelope Lady Tynte, widow of Sir Hugh Tynte, and daughter 
of Sir Philip Froude, a well-known loyalist. This union was 
not of long duration, for Lady Penelope died, at Steane, on 
the 9th March, 1699. It is stated that the Bishop was, in some 
degree, urged by the importunities of his friends to enter into 
the married state, probably in the hope of keeping up the fami¬ 
ly honours; be that as it may, he very speedily renewed his 
attentions to the fair Dorothea, to whom he was happily united 
on the 23rd of July, four months afterwards. 

During the rest of King William’s reign, he remained quiet 
and unmolested, though not much considered. 

The accession of Queen Anne restored Bishop Crewe to royal 
favour. His lordship was at Durham when William died, (8th 
March, 1701,) and he there proclaimed Anne as Queen, and ap¬ 
peared in his place on her coronation, Lady Crewe, as a peer¬ 
ess, assisting in that solemnity. “ The Queen expressed a par¬ 
ticular regard for Lady Crewe, and said she had an honest face.” 
With her own hand the Queen appointed Crewe Lent Preacher, 
although it was against his will, and expressed to him her 
thanks for the sermon that he preached before the court. We 
are told that “None met with more applause than Lord Crewe 
as a preacher, and never had any one a more graceful manner 

1 Not without justice, remarks Surtees, if we may trust her portrait at Bamburgh 
Castle, which represents her with delicate features, blue eyes, light hair, a com¬ 
plexion beautifully fair, and a sweet, good tempered countenance. 


284 


BARTHOMLEY. 


and delivery.” Honourable testimony is borne to his conduct 
as Bishop:— 

“My Lord’s clergy were great benefactors in the diocese; their houses and 
churches were all repaired, and many or most of them beautified and adorned. 
My Lord was a constant visitor of his diocese for forty years; his visitations 
regular, and consultations annual. He was a great promoter of church music, 
and brought up many in that way. He sent the Queen a boy out of Durham 
Cathedral. He was a benefactor of organs to his two chapels. He w T as a 
constant builder, and was always employed in some useful work or other 
about his castles of Durham and Auckland.” 1 

In the year 1710, he was one of the lords that opposed the 
prosecution then carried on against Dr. Sacheverell, and de¬ 
clared h im not guilty, and likewise protested against the several 
steps taken in that affair. “ When he went into his diocese that 
summer, all the gentry and clergy met him, and speeches were 
made, with the thanks of the county for his good services to 
the Church. Sir Henry Belasyse said there were at least 
five thousand horse in the cavalcade.” 

He was restored to the lord-lieutenancy of his county in 
1712. To that honour he attached great consequence. When 
kissing the Queen’s hand he said to her Majesty, that “as a 
bishop he prayed for her, and that as her lieutenant he would 
fight for her.” 

The death of Queen Anne and the accession of the Elector 
of Brunswick to the throne occasioned Bishop Crewe’s retire¬ 
ment from the Court. However, he officiated in his place at 
the coronation of George the First, but (says Surtees,) “ if he 
received any attention from the Crown, it was only such as 
might, without any compromise of principle, be paid to his age 
and reverend appearance”; yet, let this anecdote be told—the 
King, it is said, had promised the bishopric of Durham to 
Burnet, who, (to use the expression of Lord Crewe’s biogra¬ 
pher,) had been gaping for his See above thirty years, but “My 
Lord told the King he had buried his expected successor. 8 The 

1 Examination of the Life of Lord Crewe, p. 94. 

8 Bp. Burnet died in the year 1715. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


285 


King said, Durham was a good air, and laughed heartily; add¬ 
ing, he hoped it would he many years before he named his suc¬ 
cessor.” 

The latter part of his life was spent in comparative retire¬ 
ment, and he applied himself, chiefly, to works of charity and 
munificence. His contemporary biographer remarks:— 

•‘As his stronger years were active for the public, so his later time was 
well spent in pious and charitable benefactions. His riches, honours, parks, 
houses, and all worldly advantages, as they were derived from his friends, so 
did he no less esteem their names, and constantly and gratefully remem¬ 
bered them with an affectionate veneration. Many were the families he 
raised, and greatly God preserved him!” 

Nor to his friends only did the Bishop do good in his life¬ 
time, for the same writer says:— 

“God has often, in the course of my Lord’s life, given him opportunities 
to exercise his goodness towards his enemies, which he often practised on 
the most merciful side. Dr. Norton and Dr. Dolben, whom he made pre¬ 
bendaries of Durham, were instances.” 

Bishop Crewe was generous and discriminating in the dis¬ 
posal of his preferments, and was not influenced by the re¬ 
quests of great men in the behalf of their friends. He imitated 
the example of early bishops, and refrained from accumulating 
in his own hands the goods of the Church. He was a great 
benefactor of Lincoln college, of which he had been Fellow 
and Rector; he added £20 per annum to the headship, or 
rectory, and £10 per annum to each of the twelve fellow¬ 
ships for ever. He made up the Bible clerk s place, and 
eight scholarships belonging to that college, to £10 a year 
each for ever, which before were very mean. He made an 
augmentation of £10 per annum a piece, for ever, to the 
curates of four churches belonging to the said college, viz.: 
All Saints’, and St. Michael’s, in Oxford; Twyford, in Bucking¬ 
hamshire; and Combe, in Oxfordshire; all these were to take 
place from Michaelmas, 1717. He likewise settled £20 a year 
a piece on twelve exhibitions, which took place at Lady-day, 
1718. His lordship intended also to have re-built that college, 


286 


BARTHOMLEY. 


or at least the best part of it, but the fellows having disobliged 
him, in refusing to choose for their rector a gentleman whom 
he recommended to them, upon the death of Dr. Fitzherbert 
Adams, his lordship thought fit to alter his design. 

Notwithstanding the infirmities of age, Bishop Crewe, on the 
12th August, 1717, (the anniversary of the day on which, in the 
year 1668, he was chosen Rector of Lincoln college,) paid a 
last visit to his Alma Mater, and had a most kind and hon¬ 
ourable reception. He made benefactions to the college on 
that occasion, and also to the colleges of Christ Church, 
All Saints’, Queen’s, and "Worcester, as well as to the public 
library. In 1719 he granted handsome augmentations to Brack- 
ley, Durham, and Auckland Hospitals. He founded a free 
school at Newbold Yerdon, and another at Bamburgh. He 
founded also a bounty for the widows and orphans of poor cler¬ 
gymen, in the hundred in which his manor of Newbold Yerdon 
was situate; a kind of charity characterised at the time as “new 
and worthy of imitation,” and which has been, since, exten¬ 
sively carried out in many dioceses. In the year 1720, feeling 
the approach of the termination of his life, he set up the monu¬ 
ment in the chapel at Steane, described in my last letter= On 
the 24th June of the same year he executed his will—a memo¬ 
rial to all future time of his unbounded charity. 

At length his Lordship departed this life, at Steane, on 
Monday, Sept. 18, 1721, aged 88, and was buried in his chapel 
there on the 30th of the same month, having held the See of 
Durham forty-seven years, and that of Oxford three; continu¬ 
ing a Bishop fifty years, three months and two days, which was 
a longer time than any Englishman ever enjoyed that honour, 
except Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, who held 
the Sees of Worcester, Ely, and Canterbury, fifty-one years and 
twenty-one days. His lordship dying without issue, with him 
the peerage honours became extinct. The connections and 
descendants of the second son of the “Tanner” of Nantwicli 


BARTHOMLFiY. 


287 


form an illustrious roll, far eclipsing that of the elder brother: 
Walgrave, Townshend, Yere, Frowde, Forster, Earl of Sandwich, 
Wright, Alston, Wolstenholme, Cartwright, Earl of Arran, Har- 
pur, Wortley, Duke of Rutland, Duke of Kingston, Earl Bute, 
Duke of Kent, Earl of Ashhurham, are names to he found in 
it. One of these, Harpur, has adopted the name of Crewe, 
being lineally descended in the female line from Sir Thomas 
Crewe. But, to return to Bishop Crewe. To the last hour of his 
existence he manifested his attachment to the Royal house of 
Stuart, then in exile. As he lay dying, on the marble hearth 
before the fire, in the old manor house, at Steane, he cried out 
several times, almost in his last moments, to his faithful and 
devoted chaplain, Richard Grey,—“ Dick, don’t you go over to 
them.” Thus illustrating “the ruling passion strong in death.” 
His nearest relatives were the children of his elder sister, the 
countess of Sandwich, to the youngest of whom, the honourable 
James Montague, he left his manor of Newbold Verdon, which 
afterwards became the property of the eccentric Edward Wort- 
ley Montague, who alienated it in 1764. The honourable John 
Montague, Dean of Durham, he appointed a trustee to his will. 

Two political events of great importance happened during 
the long pontificate of Bishop Crewe:—the revolution of 1688, 
and the accession of the House of Hanover; and the subse¬ 
quent rebellion of Scotland, and the north of England, in 1715. 
Durham suffered less than some other counties, hut one of the 
consequences of the troubles of that year was the forfeiture of 
the Bamburgh and other estates, the property of Lady Crewe’s 
unfortunate nephew, General Forster. Lady Dorothea dying 
in 1715, she did not witness the ruin of her family. Soon af¬ 
terwards Bishop Crewe purchased from the Government Com¬ 
missioners for Forfeited Estates, the Forster’s property, of 
which Bamburgh was the principal seat. At the sum of <£20,000 
he was declared the highest bidder. 

Beyond the. benefactions T have already named. Bishop Crewe, by his 


288 


BARTHOMLEY. 



last will devised the manor of Bamburgh and other property to five 
trustees—(Dr. Montague, Dean of Durham; Dr. Mosley, Hector of Lincoln; 
and Dr. Dolben, Dr. Lupton, and Dr. Eden, Prebendaries of Durham. 
Every new trustee to be in holy orders.)—and their successors, and directed 
his trustees for the time being to pay and apply out of the rents thereof,— 
1st, certain yearly sums therein mentioned, towards the support of twelve ex¬ 
hibitioners, eight scholars of the Trapp and Marshall foundations, and fifteen 
fellows of Lincoln college; and the augmentations of the livings of All 
Saints’ and St. Michael’s, Oxford; Twvford, and Combe, in the county of 
Oxford, to the same college belonging. 2nd,—Certain yearly sums in aug¬ 
mentation of the benefices of Bamburgh, St. Andrew’s, Auckland, and such 
twelve poor rectories, vicarages, small livings, or curacies, in the diocese of 
Durham, as the trustees for the time being shall appoint. 3rd,—A yearly 
sum for the relief of widows and children of poor clergymen deceased within 
the hundred of Sparkenhoe, (in which his manor of Newbold Yerdon is situate). 
4th,—A yearly sum to the schoolmaster of Newbold Yerdon. 5th,—A year¬ 
ly sum for the maintenance of a charity school in the parish of Daventry. 
6th,—Certain yearly sums to the almsmen and almswomen in Bishop Co- 
sin’s almshouses at Durham and Bishop Auckland, and in the hospitals at 
Brackley and Hinton; and after the decease of Lady Stawell, (niece of his 
second wife,) who had a rent charge of £350 for life out of the said estates, 
the surplus rents were to he applied as follows, viz,:—<£200 a year for pub¬ 
lic uses in the University of Oxford; £100 a year to the Mayor and Aider- 
men of Durham, for apprenticing as many poor children of the city and 
suburbs as they should appoint; £20 a year for the education of thirty poor 
boys of the parish of Bishop Auckland, in writing, and £30 a year to clothe 
the same boys; and all the residue to be disposed of by his trustees for such 
charitable uses as he should by deed appoint, and, in default of appointment, 
to and for such charitable uses as they should from time to time direct; and 
it is under this clause in the noble testator’s will, that the “princely estab¬ 
lishment of Bamburgh,” and other charitable and educational provisions 
which direct Lord Crewe’s charity through various channels of beneficence, 
chiefly arising within the diocese of Durham, have been founded. No ap¬ 
pointment was made as to the surplus income, its application being wisely 
left to the Trustees unfettered by positive regulations. The amount of the 
annual income of such devised estates, has been greatly increased by judi¬ 
cious management, its total being about £9,000. To Dr. Sharp, appointed 
a trustee in 1758, great praise must be awarded for the improvement and 
admirable applications of these funds. 

By a codicil to his will, dated Sept. 17th, 1721, he made the following 
specific bequests. He gave to Mr. Edward Wortley, late ambassador to 
Constantinople, his silver cistern; to Mr. James Montague, his youngest 
nephew, his gilt tankard; to Mr. Ralph Trotter, probably his steward, the 


BARTHOMLEY. 


289 


portrait of Dorothea Lady Crewe; to Dr. William Lupton, Prebendary of 
Durham, his portrait by Sir Godfrey Kneller, to the mayor and aldermen of 
the city of Oxford, a dozen silver plates, for the use of the corporation; silver 
plates for the altar of the chapel of Newbold Yerdon, besides .£30 towards 
the altar piece; and to his secretary, Mr. Bichard Grey, his palatine and 
episcopal silver seals, and his seal manual. It is worthy of mention, too, 
that he did not forget, at the close of his long life, one to whom he was early 
indebted for preferment, Dr. Gibson. To that prelate he left a legacy which 
amounted to between £>3000 and T4000, Bishop Gibson, however, gave it 
among Lord Crewe’s relations. Thus, this legacy reflects honour on the lega¬ 
tee as well as on the testator. 1 

It would be a tempting theme to write you an account of the 
Bamburgh charities, but I must refrain, referring you to an 
excellent memoir, entitled, “A Visit to Bamburgh Castle,” by 
William Sidney Gibson, Esq., to whose work I am much in¬ 
debted: one charity, however, must not be overlooked, remark¬ 
able for its singularity and usefulness—the setting apart of 
Bamburgh Castle as a refuge for shipwrecked mariners. With 
reference to this the poet Bowles, towards the close of the last 
century, wrote the following “ Sonnet 

AT BAMBOROUGH CASTLE.” 

“ Ye holy Towers that shade the wave-worn steep, 

Long may ye rear your aged brows sublime, 

Though, hurrying silent by, relentless Time 
Assail you, and the winter whirlwind’s sweep! 

For far from blazing Grandeur’s crowded halls, 

Here Charity hath fix’d her chosen seat, 

Oft list’ning tearful when the wild winds beat 
With hollow bodings round your ancient walls; 

And Pity, at the dark and stormy hour 

Of midnight, when the moon is hid on high, 

Keeps her lone watch upon the topmost tow’r, 

And turns her ear to each expiring cry; 

Blest if her aid some fainting wretch might save, 

And snatch him cold and speechless from the wave.” 

And a popular writer observes:— 

“This noble castle, like a mighty guardian angel, stands aloft; and this 
godlike charity lives, a glorious example of what good a man may continue 
to do upon earth for ages after he has quitted it. When any one sees at a 

1 The circumstance is mentioned in Cole’s MSS., v. 30. 


290 


BARTHOMLEY. 


distance the soaring turrets of this truly sacred fabric, which stands on high- 
majestic in its aspect as it is divine in its office, dispensing daily benefits 
over land and sea—let him bless the memory of Lord Crewe, as thousands 
and tens of thousands in the depths of poverty, and the horrors of midnight 
darkness and affright, have had occasion to do. Year by year shall be heard 
by sufferers, and by many yet unborn, the welcome peal of his warning 
guns; still shall they lift up their eager eyes from amidst the wilderness of 

howling waters,.and see the signal-pennon rise on the lofty flag-staff, and 

wave like the gracious wing of an angel. Still shall they hear the chiming 
forth of his bells, that call every soul from field and hamlet to their aid, and 

the hope of life shall again rush into their despairing hearts.....And all 

this shall go on from the fiat of one man, who, himself passing away long 
ago under the pressure of mortality, has given an immortal mission to bene¬ 
ficence and brotherly love! What a gift is fortune when well used—what a 
gift a soul that knows how to use it! What is the fame of genius, the splen¬ 
dour of station, the gathering or the holding of millions of money or^of acres, 

to the one heaven-born thought which dictated.this means of human 

rescue and comfort.” 

Hutchinson, in his History of Northumberland, says:— 

“ It is not arrogant to say that his (Lord Crewe’s,) bequests have furnished 
the most exalted degree of charitable distribution, that ever flowed from a 
private donation in this country.”; and, in his History of Durham, he ob¬ 
serves—“ Many men have been canonized for much inferior works of bene¬ 
ficence than those of this prelate; his mistaken principles in the affairs of 
government, though they stain his memory, under the pen of political writers, 
are all obliterated from the benevolent mind by his charity and his extensive 
acts of munificence.” 

Let me, however, protest against a sentiment like this, sim¬ 
ply because it lays down a debtor and creditor account, which 
would produce most injurious results. It, in fact, teaches you 
to wipe away, by deeds of charity, the score which your wrong 
principles and acts have incurred, and thus to pay your debt! 
A papistical notion exemplified in the production of cathedrals, 
churches, monasteries, hospitals, &c., built and founded in ex¬ 
piation of crime. 

It is true that the Bishop was the founder of many useful 
and permanent charities. His great possessions, unfettered by 
family demands, gave him almost unbounded means of gratify¬ 
ing his bountiful inclinations, but these, without ascribing mo- 





BARTHOMLEY. 


291 


lives to him, might spring, not simply from a truly benevolent 
heart, hut from a desire to increase the lustre of his own digni¬ 
ty,—a morbid love of eleemosynary splendour. The Bishop’s 
principles were not only mistaken in the affairs of govern¬ 
ment, but of the church, and of his own heart; and, however 
great his munificence was, we must not allow it to bias our 
judgment, in the consideration of his character. His acts of 
munificence cannot, and must not, be permitted to cover his 
many and grievous faults. It is a great mistake to separate 
public from private conduct in considering character. The two 
together form the individuality of the man, and make his por¬ 
trait true and perfect. Honesty of purpose, uprightness of con¬ 
duct in public or private matters, are strictly required from all 
Christian men, and especially from a Christian Bishop—from 
one, too, whose High-cliurchism assumes to itself the only 
rightful succession to the office of those Apostles, who, like 
their lowly Master, were meek, and poor, and humble, and free 
from political and worldly strife and ambition. We do not 
expect to find in a Christian bishop the wily politician, the 
fawning courtier, the “proud and stately” Prelate: but such, 
from the foregoing particulars of him, was Nathanael Crewe. 
Thirsting for power, he was an obsequious servant to the 
“powers that be.” His moral, and religious, and political 
principles were paltry, shuffling and uncertain. He made 
himself the slave of Royal bigotry, and if James had succeeded 
in re-establishing Popery, there can be little doubt but that 
Nathanael Crewe would have become a Roman Catholic in 
order to retain his bishopric. He was a cruel and implacable 
persecutor when it served his turn; a cowardly sycophant when 
he was in danger. In short, he looked upon his office as a 
means of introduction to the smiles and favour of a king, 
whether it might be James, or William; and thought so light¬ 
ly of its holy privileges and duties, that we find him bartering 
for the retention of his bishopric, by basely yielding to the 


292 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Crown the appointment of his Prebends. His character was 
thoroughly understood by his compeers, as Kennet and Burnet 
shew; and thus the glare of his later acts is neutralised by the 
testimony of history. If history had been silent respecting him, 
the Bishop’s charities would have alone existed to trumpet forth 
his fame, and place him among the most illustrious worthies of 
England. 

“ 0 put not your trust in princes, nor in any child of man: 
for there is no help in them: For when the breath of man goeth 
forth he shall turn again to his earth: and then all his thoughts 
perish !” 

Bishop Crewe was succeeded, in the See of Durham, by Dr. 
William Talbot, successively Bishop of Oxford and Salisbury . 1 

i The following elegant speech of Dr. Mangey, which, in the name of the Dean 
and Chapter of Durham, he made to Bishop Talbot, on his first arrival in their city, 
July 12, 1722, makes honourable mention of Bishop Crewe, and, therefore, it may 
not be out of place here: — 

“ My Lord, I am, in the name of my brethren, to bid you welcome into this your 
country, and to wish you the long possession and happy administration of this dio¬ 
cese and county-palatine. It is with satisfaction that we behold you vested with 
a double character, and can pay respect and duty to you both as our spiritual and 
civil superior. His Majesty, with a good grace, and great justice, bestows this 
branch of antient Regalia upon one, whose services to himself have been so many 
and eminent, and who by descent from noble blood, and an entail of noble qualities, 
is so well qualified to manage the rights, and support the dignity, of so high a sta¬ 
tion. But, my Lord, your revenues and jurisdiction are not the only subject of our 
congratulations; but we must likewise add to these, what must be much dearer to 
you in your spiritual capacity, the good order and regularity of your Diocese. We 
may venture to assure your Lordship (and to the steady vigilance of your two im¬ 
mediate Predecessors it is owing), that in this See there are as few defects to supply, 
as few tares of heresy and false doctrine to weed out, as few abuses deserving episco¬ 
pal correction, as in any other of the kingdom, Your Lordship comes now to pre¬ 
side over a Laity well affected to our excellent Church and your episcopal character; 
over a Clergy orthodox, and strictly conformable with our Canons, Articles, and 
Rubricks; and over a Chapter, who hath hitherto been so happy, as neither to feel 
the censure, nor incur the displeasure, of their Visitor. Since our erection, our Body 
hath never had any contests or disputes of right with their Diocesans: there have 
been no attempts for unbounded power on either side, nor any struggle for unsta- 
tuteable exemption and independency on ours; but we have all along lived in per¬ 
fect amity and correspondence with them, as our Patrons and spiritual fathers at 


BARTHOMLEY. 


293 


“Dick,” the faithful secretary and chaplain, and, I may add, 
friend of Bishop Crewe, for he affectionately loved him, has 
a claim to be noticed in any memoir of that prelate, for by 
marriage into the family of Thicknesse he is brought into some 
relationship with Barthomley. 

Dr. Richard Grey is described, in the language of the last 
century, as an ingenious and learned English Divine. He was 
born at Newcastle-on-Tyne, in 1693-4; and went through Lin¬ 
coln college, Oxford, where he took the degree of B.A. 1716; 
M.A. January 16, 1718-19. Ordained priest, by Bishop Crewe, 
April 10th, 1720, and by his lordship presented, in 1721, to the 
rectory of Hinton, near Brackley, co. Northampton, which he 
adopted for his future residence, and obtained for him that of 
Kincote, in Leicestershire, to which he succeeded in 1725. He 
was also a Prebendary of St. Paul’s, and, in 1746, official and 
commissary of the archdeaconry of Leicester. He was author 
of a considerable number of works, all exhibiting much talent. 
For “A System of English Ecclesiastical Law,” the University 
of Oxford gave him the degree of D.D., May 28, 1731. He died 
Feby. 28, 1771, in his 77th year, and was buried at Hinton, 
where there is a monument to his memory. He married Joyce, 
youngest daughter of the Rev. John Thicknesse, (of Brazenose 
college, Oxford, B.C.L. J 695,) rector of Farthingoe, co. North¬ 
ampton, and sister of the eccentric Philip Thicknesse, who, in 
his memoirs, relates some amusing anecdotes of his brother-in- 
law, one being the following “strange incident,” by which “the 
happy connexion of his sister and Dr. Richd. Grey was formed: 


home, as our Guardians and protectors at Court. Such hath been our happiness, 
my Lord, for near two centuries; and we hope for the continuance of it under your 
Lordship’s gentle and wise administration. We promise ourselves, that a double por¬ 
tion of that beneficent spirit, with which our ever honoured patron Lord Crewe was 
blessed, and with which he made all about him happy, rests now upon your Lord¬ 
ship. And we have nothing greater to wish you in this world, than that you may 
meet with the same returns of affection and respect, from all ranks of men, and the 
like measure of health, long life, and prosperity, from Divine Providence/' 


294 


BARTHOMLEY. 


“ Within a mile of Farthingoe stands a beautiful little church, a rectory 
of £80 a year; near to which, in my memory, stood the antient and hospita¬ 
ble mansion of Lord Crewe, Bishop of Durham; and thither the Bishop 
came to reside, being a temporal and spiritual Peer; and keeping open house, 
he was visited by all ranks of people far and near, and particularly by the 
Clergy; but so it happened, that my father, the nearest of his neighbours, 
omitted to pay his respects at Steane. The Bishop, who was a proud, stately 
Prelate, was hurt to find a respectable Clergyman, whose residence was so 
very necessary to him, to be so singularly remiss; and therefore sent Mr. 
Grey, his domestic chaplain, to visit my father, and to fish for the cause of 
what certainly seemed a slight, but which in fact was not omitted from any 
want of attention to his Lordship. It so happened, that before Mr. Grey had 
seen my father, he had seen my sister, an object which attracted much of his 
attention; and when he came into my father’s study, instead of disclosing his 
business, he asked my father whether a young lady he had seen in the court¬ 
yard was his daughter? My father informed him he had two daughters, and 
that probably it might. ‘Bless me!’ said Mr. Grey, ‘itmade my heart leap, 
to see so fine a girl in such a country village.” This so offended my father, 
that he felt disposed to have made his body and soul leap together out of his 
study, had he not quickly perceived my father’s disapprobation of so novel a 
mode of address. He then explained his errand; and my father, finding him 
to be an ingenious man, began to feel as much partiality to the young Par¬ 
son as the Parson had conceived for his youngest daughter. Mr. Grey re¬ 
peated his visits; and before my sister was well out of her white frock, she 
became the Bector of Hinton’s wife, where she may be seen to this day 
[1788], (she died in 1794, aged 89,) in her 84th year, with many traces re¬ 
maining of that beauty which so suddenly caught the attention of her de¬ 
parted husband. Nor can I omit repeating a singular kind of joint compli¬ 
ment Mr. Grey paid her the day he had obtained (for it was not easily ob¬ 
tained) my father and mother’s consent to fix that of his happiness. When 
walking with my sister and mother in the garden, he led her on the grass- 
plot, and, after walking round and round her several times, and admiring 
her person, ‘Well,’ said he, ‘Miss Joyce, I own you are too good forme; 
but, at the same time, I think myself too good for any body else.’ ” “ Dr. 
Grey’s connection with Lord Crewe,” Mr. Thicknesse adds, “probably shut 
him out of a mitre.” 

“ Dr. Grey, long before he died, was perfectly cured of Jacobitism. He 
observed, that when the Pretender was at Borne, his friends here kept his 
birth-day, and spoke of him with concern; but when he was in Scotland, 
they seemed to forget him every day. ‘Now,’ said the Doctor, ‘if I had been 
King, 1 would have pardoned all those who shewed their unshaken loyalty 
openly, and hanged all his cowardly adherents, who durst not appear to serve 
him when their services were wanting. But, thank God, that silly business 


BARTHOMLEY. 


295 


is all at an end; and the Catholics know the sweets of living under a Pro¬ 
testant Prince and a free Government/ ” 

Dr. Grey left three daughters, the eldest of whom, Joyce, 
married the Rev. Dr. Philip Lloyd, dean of Norwich, and was 
well known for her skill in worsted work, and her painted win¬ 
dows in that cathedral; and Bridget was the wife of the Rev. 
W. T. Bowles, by whom she was left a widow, with four daugh¬ 
ters and three sons, the eldest of whom was the Rev. "William 
Lisle Bowles, (of Trinity college, Oxford,) the gifted poet, 
whose sonnet on Bamburgh Castle I have quoted. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XX. 


MY DEAR BOY, 

E shall now come back to the eldest line of the 
Crewe family. Sir Ranulphe was succeeded by 
his son and heir, Sir Clippesby Crewe, 1 of Crewe, 
Knt., born Sept. 4, 1599, who married Jane, 

i I have mentioned in a former letter that Sir Clippesby Crewe was the intimate 
friend of Robert Herrick, and the knight occupies a conspicuous place in the 
writings of that accomplished poet. In one of his Odes, addressed to “ Sir Clipseby 
Crewe,” he concludes— 

“ Come then, brave knight, and see the cell 
Wherein I dwell; 

And my enchantments too, 

Which love and noble freedom is, 

And this 
Shall fetter you. 

Take horse and come; or be so kind 
To send your mind, 

Though but in numbers few; 

And I shall think I have the heart 
Or part 

Of Clipseby Crewe.” 

And again, in a Song addressed to Sir Clipseby, he writes:— 

«-if any piece proves new 

And rare, I’ll say, my dearest Crewe, 

It was full inspired by you.” 







296 


BARTHOMLEY. 


daughter of Sir John Poultney, of Poultney Misterton, county 
Leicester, Knt., by whom he had John, Randulpli, Anne, and 

But one of the most sparkling of Herrick’s compositions is “A Nuptial Song; or 
Epithalamium on Sir Clipseby Crewe and his Lady.” A writer in “ Notes and 
Queries” (No. 305,) says, “I am not going to speak of plagiarism, hut of ‘great 
resemblances.' Who that reads the exquisite opening of Old Herrick’s Epithala¬ 
mium on Sir Clipseby Crewe and his Lady :— 

‘What’s that we see from far! the spring of day 
Bloom’d from the east; or fair enjewell’d May 
Blown out of April; or some new 
Star fill’d with glory to our view, 

Reaching at Heaven, 

To add a nobler planet to the seven ? 

Say; or do we not descry 
Some goddess, in a cloud of tiffany 
To move; or, rather, the 
Emergent Venus from the sea? 

’Tis she! ’tis she! or else some more divine 
Enlighten’d substance. Mark how from the shrine 
Of holy saints she paces on, 

Treading upon vermillion 
And amber, spicing 

The chafed air with fumes of paradise!’— 

but must feel that Milton’s soul was deep-dyed with the beauty of Herrick's verse 
when he wrote descriptively, in the ‘Samson Agonistes,’ of the approach of Dalila? 

‘ But who is this, what thing of sea or land ? 

Female of sex it seems, 

That so bedeck’d, ornate, and gay, 

Comes this way sailing, 

Like a stately ship 
Of Tarsus, bound for the isles 
Of Javan or Gadire, 

With all her bravery on, and tackle trim, 

Sails fill’d, and streamers waving, 

Courted by all the winds that hold them play, 

An amber scent of odorous perfume 
Her harbinger,’ 

“ Both passages are redolent of the same voluptuous beauty, and seem to issue 
from one and the same gorgeous imagination.” 

Sir Clippesby also numbered John Evelyn among his friends, the latter having 
the following entry in his interesting Diary:—“1648, Feby. 28th. I went with my 
noble friend Sir Wm. Ducy (afterwards Lord Downe) to Thistleworth, where we 
din’d with Sir Clepesby Crewe; Sir Clepesby has fine Indian hangings, and a very 
good chimney-piece of w r ater colours by Breugel, which I bought for him.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


297 


Frances. His second son, Bandulph, who was distinguished 
for his penmanship, came to an untimely end abroad. Fuller 
speaks very highly of him:— 1 

“Randal Crew, Esquire, second son to Sir Clipsby, Grand-child to Judge 
Crew. He drew a map of Cheshire so exactly with his pen, that a judicious 
eye would mistake it for printing, and the Graver’s skill and industry could 
little improve it. This map I have seen; and, Reader, when my eye directs 
my hand, I may write with confidence. This hopeful gentleman went be¬ 
yond the seas, out of design to render himself by his Travells more useful 
for his country; where he was barbarously assassinated by some French¬ 
men, and honourably buried, with generall lamentation of the English, at 
Paris, 1656.” 

John Crewe, eldest son of Sir Clippesby, was born at West¬ 
minster, December 20, 1626, and was baptized January 3, 1627. 
He married—first, Carew, daughter of Sir Arthur Gorge, 2 of 
Chelsea, by Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Wm. Chauncy, of Edg- 
cote, co. Northampton. Mr. Crewe had great differences with 
his first wife; in 1670 they were separated, when she insisted, 
as one of the terms of separation, on having Crewe Hall as¬ 
signed to her exclusively, as her place of residence. He mar¬ 
ried, secondly, Lucy Byron—re-married to Edmund Turnor, of 
Covent Garden, Esquire, and after his death to William Frowd, 
Esquire. By his first wife he had John Crewe, his only son, 
who died issueless, and Anne and Elizabeth. His eldest daugh¬ 
ter, Anne, married John Oflfley, of Madeley, in the county of 
Stafford, Esq., at Utkinton, co. Cest., April 24, 1679, and with 
her the township and hall of Crewe passed to one of another 
name, whose descendants possess them to this day: the name 
of Offley. 

The present Crewes are, therefore, in reality, Offleys. Ob¬ 
serve: an heiress conveyed the estates of the Crewe family to a 
jP raevs; an heiress conferred them on a Fulleshurst; after a 
lapse of some centuries, they are regained by a Crewe; and are 


i Worthies of England, vol. i, p. 193. 

3 Grandson to Henry Clinton, second Earl of Lincoln. 

0 1 


298 


BARTHOMLEY. 


lielcl by a Crewe only for two generations after Sir Ranulphe, 
the purchaser, when an heiress gives her hand and the estates 
to an Offley. These are curious coincidences; the superstitious 
will ascribe them to a kind of family fatality. * 

HE OFFLEYS were a Staffordshire family of 
great respectability and good property, residing 
at Madeley, near Newcastle-under-Lyme, in a 
handsome half-timbered house, an engraving of 
which is in Plot’s Natural History of Staffordshire, 1 where the 
trees of Madeley Manor Park are highly spoken of:— 

“But the timber that surpasses all in the county, both for quantity, great¬ 
ness, and goodness, is that in the park at Madeley Manor, the seat of that 
courteous and generous gentleman, John Offley, Esq., which, in memory of 
his many and signal favours, is here engraven, Tab. 16, where, in the first 
place, there is so much, that it has been computed by indifferent judges, the 
whole has been thought worth 20,000 pounds sterling,” (a very large sum in 
those days,) “out of which might be culled 1000 trees, worth 8000 pounds; 
and out of these again, 100, that scarce would he sold for 1500 pounds; not 
to mention the great quantities of excellent timber, to be seen in many other 
parks all over the county.” 

This beautiful half-timbered house is believed to have been 
built by Sir Thomas Offley, Knt., Lord Mayor of London, 
1556, who purchased the Madeley estates from Sir Edward 
Bray, Knt., and Dame Joan, his lady, who was the daughter 
and heiress of Sir Matthew Browne, Knt., in the first year of 
King Edw. VI., and which had been the residence of the Offley 
family to the time when Dr. Plot wrote his book. It subse¬ 
quently fell into gradual decay in consequence of Mr. Offley 
marrying the heiress of Crewe, and in the year 1749 was razed 
to the ground. The extensive park attached to the mansion, 
which had been well supplied with deer from the time of Sir 
Edward Bray, was begun to be reduced in extent by enclosures 
so far back as 1723, and ceased to bear more than the name 
of a park about the year 1753. 



1 Chap, vi, page 223. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


299 


Sir Thomas Offley, Knt., Lord Mayor of London in 1556, 
was the eldest son of William Offley, Sheriff of Chester, anno 
1517, by his first wife, Elizabeth Dillon, and who, by his two 
wives, had six 'and twenty children. The following couplet 
contains a satire, perhaps, on the penuriousness of Sir 
Thomas:— 

“ Offley three dishes had of daily roast, 

An egg, an apple, and (the third) a toast.” 

Contrasted with Lord Mayors’, and great men’s dinners, now¬ 
adays, this daily roast sinks into very ludicrous dimensions. 

Sir T. Offley died 1560, and was buried in the church of St. 
Andrew-Under shaft. He was succeeded in his estates by his 
eldest son, Henry, 1 whom he had by his wife Joan, daughter 
and heiress of John Nechells, of the city of London, merchant. 

Henry married, for his first wife, Mary ., on whom the 

manor of Darlaston, by Walsall, purchased by Sir Thomas 
Offley, was settled for her jointure. Of this match there was 
(besides daughters,) an only son, John, knighted by King James 
the first, probably on the occasion of his receiving his appoint¬ 
ment as a Gentleman of his Majesty’s Bed-chamber. Sir John 
Offley was a man of parts, and had the honour of representing 
the borough of Stafford, in two Parliaments, for which he was 
returned, after a successful contest with Sir Walter Devereux, 
knight, in the first year of the first Charles; the number of 
votes polled for him being 113, and only 7 in favour of his op¬ 
ponent, Sir Walter giving Sir John the overwhelming majority 
of 106 votes. It may be, that Sir John did not much distin- 

1 (Note .)—It may not be much out of place to notice, that Henry, the eldest son 
of Sir Thomas, soon after the death of his first wife, 1609, was, by a designing 
bailiff, named Robert Butterton, persuaded to marry Elizabeth Clemonds, a maid¬ 
servant, whom friend Robert himself was courting. The old man—upwards of 80 
years of age—settled upon this his second wife, an annuity of one hundred pounds, 
and still retained Butterton in his service. Mr. Offley survived the marriage several 
years, and by his will bequeathed to his wife all his personal estate and effects, as 
well in the country as in London—(where he was engaged in business as a merchant,) 
and appointed her sole executrix of his will. She had no family by Mr. Offley, 
and soon after his death, which took place in 1612, married Butterton. 



300 


BARTHOMLEY < 


guish himself as an orator in Parliament, but what he was short 
of in that respect he amply made up for by his integrity to his 
constituents. He took copious notes of the debates, when the 
King and his Parliament assembled at Christ Church Hall, in 
the city of Oxford, on the fourth of August, 1625, owing to the 
plague at that time raging in London; which also compelled 
the Law Courts to remove from thence to Reading, where Sir 
Ranulphe Crewe sat as Chief Justice of England. The 
speeches in Parliament reported by Sir John, comprise those of 
Mr. Secretary Conway, Sir Edward Coke, Sir Humphrey May, 
Mr. Recorder Finch, Sir John Coke, Sir Thomas Wentworth, 
and other members of the house. Sir John died 1 in June, 1647, 
leaving, by his wife, Ann—daughter of Nicholas Fuller, of 
Gray’s Inn, Esq., an eminent barrister in the reign of Queen 
Elizabeth—one son, John, and a daughter, Elizabeth, who 
married a gentleman named Jenny. His son, John, married 
Mary, daughter of Thomas Broughton, of Broughton, near Ec- 
cleshall, Esquire, who was fined the large sum of ^63000 by the 
Sequestrators, for his loyal attachment to his sovereign in the 
time of the Civil Wars. 

John Ofiley was the intimate friend of Izaak Walton, who 
frequently visited him at Madeley Manor, and plied his gentle 
art in the neighbouring brooks and ponds. I have been told 
that a stone near one of the old fishpans, at Madeley, had the 
initials of the good old fisherman, engraven upon it with his 
own hand, done with his pocket knife, whilst he was patiently 
waiting for a glorious nibble, and something more; I have not 
seen it, and cannot say whether the relic now exists. This Mr. 

1 His will, dated 4th October, 1645, contains the following very singular be¬ 
quest:— “Item. I will and devise one Jewell, done all in Gold and Enamelled, 
wherein there is a Caul that covered my face and shoulders when I first came into 
the World, the use thereof to my loving Daughter, the Lady Elizabeth Jenny, so 
long as she shall live, and after her decease, the use likewise thereof to her son, 
Ofiley Jenny, during his natural life, and after his decease, to my own right heirs 
males for ever, and so from Heir to Heir to be left so long as it shall please God of 
goodness to continue any Heir Male of my name, desiring the same Jewell be not 
concealed nor sold by any of them.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


301 


Offley is immortalized by the dedication of Izaak’s “ Com¬ 
plete Angler” to bim, in which high compliments are paid to 
his fishing knowledge and practice :* 

“ You know that art better than others; and that this truth is demon¬ 
strated by the fruits of that pleasant labour which you enjoy, when you pur¬ 
pose to give rest to your mind, and divest yourself of your more serious busi¬ 
ness, and (which is often) dedicate a day or two to this recreation.” 

John Offley owes, then, all his celebrity to the circumstance of 
his belonging to the fraternity of anglers, which brought him 
into friendly contact with a learned and most agreeable brother. 
He died in 1653, the very year the first edition of Walton’s 
“ Complete Angler” was published. His wife survived him, 
and, in 1661, purchased, from Sir Francis Baynton, Bart., the 
manor and estate of Wichnor, in Staffordshire. There were 
three children to this marriage. The eldest, John, who married 
Anne Crewe, who became sole heiress of Crewe; Thomas, and 
Mary, (so named after her mother,) who, in 1665, married Sir 
Willoughby Aston, in Cheshire, Bart., by whom she was 
mother of seventeen children, eight sons and nine daughters; 
one of the sons was the father of Sir Bichard Aston, knight, 
Lord Chief Justice of Ireland, and, in 1765, made a Judge of 
the Court of King’s Bench, in England. By Anne, the heiress 
of Crewe, John Offlej^, had three children: John, 2 who, in 1709, 
(in compliance with the desire of Sir John Crewe, of Utkinton, 
knight,) took the name of Crewe only, by special Act of Parlia¬ 
ment; * Crewe,’ of Wichnor, whose son, John, (the pupil of Dr. 
Johnson, with David Garrick,) sold the Wichnor estate, in 
1765, to John Levett, of Lichfield, Esq. He was gentleman 

la He dedicated the work to John Offley, of Madeley Manor, in Staffordshire, 
Esquire, his most honoured friend, who, there is grounds for supposing, was re¬ 
motely related to him.” 

“This dedication is not the only evidence of a personal acquaintance between the 
families of Walton and Offley: a John Offley proved the will of Agnes Walton, of 
the parish of Madeley, on the 22nd day of April, 1573 .”—Sir Harris Nicholas. 

z In 1703 Mr. Crewe, (then Mr. Offley,) contested the Borough of Newcastle- 
under-Lyme, with Sir Thomas Bellott, and carried the election by a great majority 
of votes; the return being 223 votes against 83 for the latter. 


302 


BAKTHOMLEY. 


usher to King George II., and M.P. for Stockbridge; and 
Mary, who married Viscount Kilmorey, in 1701. 

John Crewe, son of the heiress of Crewe, married Sarah 
Price; he died in August, 1749, aged 61; and his wife died in 
May, 1751, aged 69; tradition points to the portrait of a hand¬ 
some woman, in the gallery at Crewe Hall, as her likeness, hut 
there is nothing certain about it; neither is there anything 
certain as to her own origin and status. She was, I believe, 
of inferior rank to that of her husband, but a woman of a 
strong and active mind, and of good business habits. She is 
spoken of by the older villagers of Barthomley as Lady Sarah, 
and always as one of those commanding persons who have 
given a reality to the familiar adage relating to her sex—“the 
grey mare the better horse.” 

Her eldest son, John, born 1709, was member of parliament 
for the county of Chester, 8, 15, and 21 George II. 1 He mar¬ 
ried, in May, 1738, Elizabeth, daughter of Bichard Shuttle- 
worth, Esq., of Fosset, in the county of York, and Gawsworth 
and Barton Lodge, in the county of Lancaster. They had six 
children: John, Bichard, Sarah, Elizabeth, Frances, and Emma. 
Of the younger children I shall not say a word. The eldest has 
a claim to our special regard, for on him the title of Baron of 
Crewe was first conferred. He was the pupil, the friend, the 
brother-in-law of your great grandfather, and the substantial 
benefactor of many of his own relatives. 

John Crewe, of Crewe, Esq., was baptized at St. George’s, 
Hanover-square, 1742. His father died when he was a boy. 
He was educated at Westminster school, and at Trinity college, 
Cambridge. After making the grand tour, which was the fa¬ 
shion with young men of family and wealth in his day, he re¬ 
turned to England, and took possession of his noble house and 


1 He was a deputy Lieutenant for the county of Stafford, made so in 1743, by 
John second Lord Gower. 


it 




BARTHOMLEY. 


303 


estates. 1 In 1764 he was Sheriff of Cheshire. In 1765 he was 
M.P. for the county of Stafford; and on March 29th, 1768, he 
obtained a seat in parliament for Cheshire, which post he con¬ 
tinued to occupy for 34 years, until 1802. He married, in 1768, 
Frances Anne, daughter of Fulke Greville, Esq., (grandson of 
Fulke, 5th Lord Brooke,) by whom he had four children: John, 
Richard, Frances (died young), and Elizabeth Emma. In 1806, 
Feb. 25, he was created Baron Crewe, of Crewe; and on the 
28th of April, 1829, he departed this life, in the 87th year of 
his age, and was buried in the family vault at Barthomley. 

The most distinguished of the family lived, as you will re¬ 
mark, to great length of days: Sir Ranulphe, to 88 years. Ba¬ 
ron Crewe, of Steane, to 82. The Bishop of Durham, to 88. 
The first Baron Crewe, of Crewe, to 87. 

John, first Lord Crewe, of Crewe, lived in the palmy days of 
Pitt and Fox, when the great struggle between liberal and ab¬ 
solutist principles was carried on by men of gigantic intellect 
and eloquence; Toryism and Whiggism were the names which 
designated these principles. Radicalism is a more modern in¬ 
vention, and Conservatism more modern still. There are few 
old Whigs left, and fewer Tories. Tories, with an acquisition 

1 He attained his majority in June, 1763, whilst on his tour. The celebration of 
which event is thus noticed in a town periodical of the day:— 

“We hear from Cheshire, that on this day the Hon. John Crewe, Esq., (who is 
abroad on his travels,) attained his age of twenty-one, when his birth-day was cele¬ 
brated at his seat, at Crewe Hall, by an incredible number of his friends and 
tenants. The bells rang for upwards of twenty miles round, to give early notice of 
this joyful meeting, and in harmonious succession the whole day resounded the 
pleasures of a delighted country. The entertainment was beyond description gener¬ 
ous and hospitable. Healths, loyal and patriotic, distinguished the true born Eng¬ 
lishmen; and the demonstrations of joy, shewn on this occasion, testified a general 
respect and attachment to Mr. Crewe, his family, and interest. And although 
above 4,000 of the populace regaled themselves to the extent of their wishes, yet all 
things were so orderly conducted, that it is very remarkable no material mis¬ 
chief happened. We also hear that the Mr. Crewe’s birth-day was celebrated at 
the Rev. Mr. Crewe’s house, at Muxon, in Stafford shire, by many of the nobility 
and principal gentry in the neighbourhood, who were entertained with the greatest 
elegance and politeness.” 


304 


BARTHOMLEY. 


of liberal views and sentiments, have become, in great part, Con¬ 
servatives ; and Whigs, also, have expanded their ideas, and be¬ 
come Radicals. Pitt, you know, was formerly the great leader 
of the Tories; and Fox, of the Whigs. Under the banner of 
Charles James Fox young Crewe placed himself immediately 
on his entrance into public life, and no one had a more firm 
adherent, a more obedient follower, or a more steady and at¬ 
tached friend in private life, than Crewe was to Fox. 
Whether a love of his principles was instilled into him 
by Bishop Hinchliffe; or whether he received them as a 
part of his inheritance—a patrimony—as many do, I can¬ 
not say; in either case, as it might be, he was an ardent 
partizan. He was a ‘reformer,’ when to be one was sure to in¬ 
cur the charge of holding revolutionary principles, and further¬ 
ing revolutionary objects; nevertheless, he was faithful to his 
own cause, and though not a leader in the reform ranks, he 
took an active, secondary, and not inefficient part, in spite of 
opposition and defeat. 1 He lived to see great changes accom¬ 
plished, for which his party had fought many a severe and lost 
battle: the recognition of the Free States of America; the re¬ 
peal of the Test and Corporation Act; the abolition of the 
Slave Trade; and other important measures, were carried be¬ 
fore he died; whilst he had the triumph to witness the general 

1 30th March, 1786. “ An interesting debate took place at this time, which ex¬ 
hibited in a conspicuous light the change that had been effected in public opinion, 
upon points materially affecting the British constitution, within the four preceding 
years. After the close of Lord North’s administration, the spirit of reform, con¬ 
ducted by Burke, and under him by Mr. Crewe and Sir Philip Clerke, had made 
gigantic inroads on the Royal household. Marsham, one of the representatives for 
the county of Kent, who had taken so prominent a share, in conjunction with Powis, 
during the early part of Pitt’s entry on employment, now attempted to extend the 
disqualifying enactments of Mr. Crewe’s Bill to all voters employed by the navy 
and ordnance boards. But he soon discovered that ministers were no longer favour¬ 
able to such propositions. The Chancellor of the Exchequer, while he admitted that 
he had voted for Mr. Crewe’s bill, a vote of which, he said, he by no means repented, 
yet professed his determination to resist any further innovation. The times, he 
maintained, were altogether changed since the house had come to a resolution that 
“the influence of the Crown had increased, was increasing, and ought to he di¬ 
minished .”—Sir Nath. Wraxall's Memoirs. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


305 


overspreading of liberal sentiments, in Great Britain and Ire¬ 
land, which issued, not many days before his death, in Catholic 
Emancipation; and, after it, in the Beform Bill; Free-trade; 
and a more just balance of the aristocratic and democratic scale. 
He was not a man of great talent and acquirement; but had a 
clear head and strong common sense, which, for ordinary and 
practical purposes, is the best sense we can have. He was 
fond of parliamentary business, and was a good county member, 
though not a speaker. To him Cheshire is mainly indebted 
for the repeal of the salt duty, which bore very heavily upon 
Cheese-makers, and forced them to an habitual and most de¬ 
moralizing evasion of the law. Salt-smuggling was a trade 
countenanced and supported by almost every farmer in the 
county. Crewe’s bill for the repeal of the duty was thrown out 
as often as it was brought in; whilst, strange to say, every op¬ 
position to it, which could be raised in the county, was directed 
against it; and after Crewe became a peer, and had handed 
over the measure to others, he was so hateful to the Tories on 
account of it, that, at a great county meeting, at Northwich, the 
old man was only saved from falling a victim to their violence, 
by a numerous and resolute body of his friends. 

He was, also, an agriculturist; encouraging new inventions 
of implements, and experiments in agriculture: in this, he and 
his neighbour, Mr. Toilet, went hand in hand, as well as in po¬ 
litics. He was reputed to be one of the best landlords in the 
county, and numerous were the applications for farms under 
him. His tenantry were much attached to him, for he lived 
among them the greatest part of the year, and was personally 
acquainted with them, and valued and sought their good-will, 
and strove to make them comfortable and happy. 

At the east end of the church-yard, Barthomley, are buried 
several of his servants, with the length of their service engraven 
on their tombs,—forty-three years, fifty years of service, &c., 
speak very forcibly to his character as a master, as well as to 
their conduct as servants. 


306 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Without brilliancy, he was useful; without any great enthu¬ 
siasm for, or knowledge of, the fine arts, he managed to collect 
together some good pictures, and especially of Sir Joshua Rey¬ 
nolds’, one of which, the celebrated portrait of Charles James 
Fox, he bequeathed to his most valued and intimate friend, the 
late Earl of Leicester, better known as Mr. Coke, of Holkham 
Hall, Norfolk. 

But of Frances Anne Lady Crewe, am I to say nothing ? If 
I were to he silent about her the very bricks of Crewe Hall 
would cry out. She was one of those bright beings formed to 
fascinate and adorn. High-birth; brilliant wit; a good amount 
of general reading, with quickness of applying it; beauty of 
person, of which Madame D’Arblay speaks in her journal:— 
“ 1779. The elegance of Mrs. Sheridan’s beauty is unequalled 
by any I ever saw, except Mrs. Crewe”; a feminine softness of 
character, brought to an exquisite polish by manners the most 
refined, made her “the cynosure of neighbouring eyes.” 

In those times ladies mingled in the strife of politics, and 
exercised an influence which we seldom hear of now. The 
great Duchess of Devonshire,—for why should not a lady be 
called great as well as a man?—and Lady Dungannon, carried 
everything before them; and at the far-famed Westminster 
election Mrs. Crewe was extremely active, and obtained many 
votes for the leader of her party—Fox. In honour of his 
triumph at this election, the Prince of Wales gave a splendid 
entertainment in the morning of the 18th May, 1784, at Carl¬ 
ton House, which was attended by a brilliant company of Fox’s 
friends and supporters. In the evening of the same day, His 
Royal Highness and the greater part of the same company met 
in Grosvenor Street, at the house of Mrs. Crewe, who is de¬ 
scribed by Wraxall as “one of the most accomplished and 
charming women of her time,” and as having “ exerted herself 
in securing the election of Fox, if not as efficaciously, yet as en¬ 
thusiastically, as the Duchess of Devonshire.” At this party la- 


BARTHOMLEY. 


307 


dies and gentlemen wore the then costume of Whiggery, buff and 
blue. After supper the Prince of Wales gave the following toast: 

“Buff and blue, 

And Mrs. Crewe.” 

Which was answered immediately by the fair lady herself, with 
this impromptu:— 

“ Buff and blue, 

And all of you:” 

amidst rapturous applause. The quickness , not the clever¬ 
ness , of the rejoinder from female lips, seldom opened for pub¬ 
lic speaking, was so sudden and unexpected as to entrap all 
in a furor of admiration. Sheridan dedicated his play of “ The 
School for Scandal” to her, and presented her with the manu¬ 
script of it, which is now, I believe, in the possession of her 
nephew—Mr. Brooke Greville. The dedicatory poem is full of 
cutting and sententious satire, but is rather too long, and too 
replete with fulsome flattery. “ A model,” from which the tongue 
of scandal cannot detract, is, indeed, a paragon of perfection, 
and such was not Frances Anne Lady Crewe, nor any one else. 

Crewe Hall, when she was the ‘Ladye of the Manor’, became 
a point of attraction to wits and statesmen. The most eminent 
of the ‘Talents’ were often there: Fox, Burke, Sheridan, Dr. 
Charles Burney, the poet Spencer 1 (William), Sir Joshua Rey¬ 
nolds, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Canning, and others of lesser 
grade, but far in advance of the common herd of men, helped 
to form a society, at once intellectual, sparkling, and agree¬ 
able. At Christmas, games and plays 2 served to wile away 
the dreary hours, and to draw out any cleverness a person 

1 “May 20th, 1819.—Dined at Sotheby’s. Company—Bowles, Crabbe, Miss 
Joanna Baillie, William Spencer, &c. Spencer, as usual, very amusing. Told us 
that, in allusion to Lady Crewe, they used to read the well-known line thus— 
‘Crewe, admit me of thy mirth .’”—Journal of Thomas Moore , edited by Lord John 
Russell. 

2 In “Notes and Queries” 2nd S. No. 15, appears a list of “Anonymous Plays,” in¬ 
cluding the following, “ One Bird in the Hand worth Two in the Bush .—Performed 
at Crewe Hall, in Cheshire, Jan. 5, 1803.”—“It was meant merely as a vehicle for music; 
the idea, however, was ingenious, and the piece was replete with comic effect.” 


308 


BARTHOMLEY. 


might possess. For the plays , Miss Bover and your grand¬ 
mother were, as at Eaton Hall, in high request; and Miss 
Fanny Hesketh—(afterwards married to General Yyse, once 
M.P. for Beverley, and known for his researches in the Py¬ 
ramids,)—as ‘Miranda/ with her sylph-like figure, lovely face, 
and glossy black hair, so enchanted Sir T. Lawrence, that 
the great painter took her likeness in that character ‘ con 
amove ,’—and presented it to her family. Miss Emma Hes¬ 
keth—now Mrs. Thomas Blackburne—was ‘Ariel’ in these per¬ 
formances. The plays were ably conducted by the gamekeeper, 
Thomas Fawcett, 1 a brother of the celebrated actor of “ genteel 
comedy.” He and his wife were themselves no mean actors, and 
took a part in the performances. Theirs was a family taste 
inherited by their children, some of whom became actors, and 
one, Charles Fawcett, was a leading member of Mr. Charles 
Stanton’s company, visiting the Newcastle, Nantwich, Ludlow, 
Bridgenorth, and other theatres. But Mrs. Crewe’s plans for 
the amusement and recreation of the company, at Crewe Hall, 
were not confined to the house. On Philip’s Hill, in the park, 
a cottage orne; at the head of the lake, a boat house —so called 
because a boat, turned upside down, formed its roof—and, at 
Crewe green, a dairy farm ; were often the scenes of joyous 
parties, and made a visit at the hall very desirable. 

You have heard me speak of the ladies of Llangollen, Lady 
Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby. In their nest upon a 
hill, these ladies established the anomaly of a retired public 
life, visited by all of consequence and fashion, who travelled 
through the lovely vale which winded beneath their cottage orne. 
This was supposed to be a snug retreat from what is called 
“the world,” with which these ladies—with close cut hair, and 
in rather masculine costume, and decorated with orders—fan¬ 
cied themselves to he disgusted. Here, however, in spite of 

1 In Barthomley churchyard a simple stone, with the following inscription, marks his 
grave:—“In Memory of Thomas Fawcett, who died January 23rd, 1817. Aged 64 
years; 21 years Gamekeeper to the Right Hon: We Lord Crewe.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


309 


all, ‘‘the world’" stepped in, and one of its loveliest votaries— 
Mrs. Crewe. The two ladies—won by her fascinations—took 
a lively interest in her; and Miss Ponsonby, famed for her 
beautiful penmanship, had a pleasure in writing out “the 
dedication poem,” a specimen of which she gave to my mother. 


and from it I now copy:— 

“A POBTKAIT. 

“Addressed to A LADY, with the Comedy oe 
“The School fob Scandal. 

“ By E. B. Sheridan, Esq. 


“Tell me, ye prim adepts in Scandal’s school, 

Wlio rail hy Precept, and detract by Buie, 

Lives there no character so tried—so known, 

So deck’d with grace,—and so unlike your own, 
That even you assist her fame to raise, 

Approve by envy, and by silence praise!— 
Attend!—a model shall attract your view— 
Daughters of Calumny!—I summon you 1 
You shall decide if this a portrait prove, 

Or fond Creation of the Muse and Love.— 

Attend, ye virgin critics, shrewd and sage, 

Ye matron censors ot this childish age, 

Whose piercing eye and wrinkled front declare 
A fixt antipathy to young and fair. 

By cunning, cautious; or by nature, cold. 

In maiden malice, virulently bold !— 

Attend! ye skilled to coin the precious tale. 
Creating proof, where inuendoes fail! 

Whose practis’d mem’ries, cruelly exact, 

Omit no circumstance, except the fact! 

Attend, all ye who boast—or old or young,— 

The living libel of a slanderous tongue! 

So shall my theme as far contrasted be. 

As saints by fiends, or hymns by calumny. 

Come, gentle Amoret, (for by that name 
In worthier verse is sung thy beauty’s fame); 
Come—for but thee whom seeks the Muse ? and while 
Celestial blushes check thy conscious smile, 

With timid grace, and hesitating eye, 

The perfect model, which I want, supply:— 

Vain Muse! couldst thou the humblest sketch 
create 

Of her, or slightest charm couldst imitate— 

Could thy blest strain in kindred colours trace 
The faintest wonder of her form and face— 

Poets would study the immortal line, 

And Reynolds own /ns art subdued by thine; 

That art, which well might added lustre give 
To nature’s best, and Heaven’s superlative! 

On Granby's cheek might bid new glories rise. 

Or point a purer beam from Levon's eyes! 

Hard is the task to shape that beauty’s praise, 
When judgment scorns the homage flattery pays! 
But praising Amoret we cannot err, 

Ho tongue o’ervalues Heaven, nor flatters her! 

Yet she by Pate’s perverseness—she alone 


Would doubt our truth, nor deem such praise her 
own! 

Adorning Pashion, unadorn’d by dress, 

Simple from taste, and not from carelessness; 
Discreet in gesture, in deportment mild. 

Not stiff with prudence, nor uncouthly wild: 

No state has Amoret! no studied mien; 

She frowns no goddess, and she moves no queen. 

The softer charm that in her manner lies 
So form’d to captivate, but not surprise; 

It justly suits th’ expression of her face,— 

’Tis less than dignity, and more than grace! 

On her pure cheek the native hue is such. 

That form’d by Heaven to be admired so much; 

The hand divine, with a less partial care. 

Might well have fix’d a fainter crimson there. 

And bade the gentle inmate of her breast,— 
Inshrined Modesty!—supply the rest. 

But who the peril of her lips shall paint ? 

Strip them of smiles- still, still all words are faint! 
But moving Love himself appears to teach 
Their action, though denied to rule their speech; 
And thou who seest her speak and dost not hear. 
Mourn not her distant accents ’scape thy ear; 
Viewing those lips, thou still may’st make pretence 
To judge of what she says, and swear ’tis sense. 
Cloth’d with such grace, with such expression 
fraught. 

They move in meaning, and they pause in thought! 
But dost thou farther watch, with charm’d surprise. 
The mild irresolution of her eyes! 

Curious to mark, how frequent they repose 
In brief eclipse and momentary close— 

Ah! seest thou not an ambush’d Cupid there, 

Too tim’rous of his charge, with jealous care 
Veils and unveils those beams of heavenly light! 

Too full, too fatal else, for mortal sight! 

Nor yet, such pleasing vengeance fond to meet, 

In pardoning dimples hope a safe retreat. 

What though her peaceful breast should ne’er allow 
Subduing Frowns to arm her alter’d brow. 

By Love, I swear, and by his artful wiles. 

More dang’rous still—the mercy of her smiles! 

Thus lovely, thus adorn’d, possessing all 
Of bright or fair that can to woman fall, 

The height of vanity might well be thought 



310 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Prerogative in her, and Nature’s fault; 

Yet gentle Amoret, in mind supreme 
As well as charms, rejects the vainer theme; 

And half mistrustful of her beauty’s store, 

She barbs with wit, those darts too keen before 
Read in all knowledge that her sex should reach, 
Though Greville, or the Muse, should deign to teach; 
Fond to improve, nor tim’rous to discern 
How far it is a woman’s grace to learn, 

In Millar’s dialect she would not prove 
Apollo’s Priestess, but Apollo’s love. 

Grac’d by those signs, which youth delights to own, 
The timid blush, and mild submitted tone s 
Whate’er she says, though sense appears through¬ 
out. 

Displays the tender hue of female doubt: 

Deck’d with that charm, how lovely wit appears, 


How graceful science, when this robe she wears! 
Such, too, her talents, and her bent of mind. 

As speak a sprightly heart, by thought refin’d; 

A taste for mirth, by contemplation school’d, 

A turn for ridicule, by candour rul’d, 

A scorn of folly, which she tries to hide; 

An awe of talent, which she owns with pride! 

Peace! idle Muse—nor more thy strain prolong, 
But yield a theme, thy warmest praises wrong; 
Just to her merit, though thou canst not raise 
Thy feeble verse, behold th’ acknowledg’d praise, 
Has spread conviction tln’ough the envious train. 
And cast a fatal gloom o’er Scandal’s reign! 

And lo 1 each pallid hag, with blister’d tongue, 
Mutters assent to all my zeal has sung— 

Owns all the colours just—the outline true; 

Thee my inspirer, and my model , — Cbewe ! 


The antithesis in this dedication is, frequently, very delicate 


and charming, hut very subtle; giving a poetic refinement to 
flattery, not a little dangerous: yet, the appetite must, indeed, 
he strong, which can swallow these high-seasoned compliments. 
Perhaps, the “ Model” received them as a thing of course, and 
treated them with little more than indifference—we may hope 


so. But Sheridan’s high-wrought encomiums are surpassed by 
the fervid poetry of Charles James Fox, in his— 

“Lines to Mrs. Crewe. 


“Where the loveliest expression to features is join’d, 

By nature’s most delicate pencil design’d; 

Where blushes unhidden, and smiles without art, 
Speak the softness and feeling that dwell in the heart; 
Where in manners, inchanting, no blemish we trace, 
But the soul keeps the promise we had from the face; 
Sure philosophy, reason, and coldness must prove, 
Defences unequal to shield us from love: 

Then tell me, mysterious enchanter, oh tell! 

By what wonderful art, by what magical spell, 

My heart is so fenc’d, that, for once I am wise, 

And gaze without rapture on Amoret’s eyes; 

That my wishes, which never were bounded before, 
Are here bounded by friendship, and ask for no more. 
Is’t reason? No; that my whole life will belye. 

For who so at variance, as reason and I ? 

Is’t ambition that fills up each chink of my heart, 

Nor allows any softer sensation a part? 

O, no! for in this all the world must agree, 

One folly was never sufficient for me. 

Is my mind on distress too intensely employ’d, 



BARTHOMLEY. 


311 


Or by pleasure relax’d, by variety cloy’d ? 

For alike in this only, enjoyment and pain, 

Both slacken the springs of those nerves which they strain, 

That I’ve felt each reverse, that from fortune can flow, 

That I’ve tasted each bliss that the happiest know, 

Has still been the whimsical fate of my life, 

Where anguish and joy have been ever at strife. 

But tho’ vers’d in th’ extremes both of pleasure and pain, 

I am still but too ready to feel them again: 

If, then, for this once in my life, I am free, 

And escape from a snare might catch wiser than me; 

’Tis that beauty alone but imperfectly charms, 

For tho’ brightness may dazzle, ’tis kindness that warms: 

As on suns in the winter with pleasure we gaze, 

But feel not their warmth, tho’ their splendour we praise, 

So beauty, our just admiration may claim, 

But love, and love only, the heart can enflame.” 

These lines are truly a pictorial history of Fox’s tempera¬ 
ment. Few have written so faithfully of self: high talents, de¬ 
based by self-indulgent folly; a heart full of the kindliest and 
warmest affections, yet too often torn by unruly passion, and 
love of pleasure, were his, and known by himself to he his, and 
yet indolently and unwisely submitted to. His life was a chap¬ 
ter of contradictions. 

If ever woman was likely to he spoilt by flattery, Mrs. Crewe 
was. In an old album, at Crewe Hall, the first date in which 
is 1774, are many specimens of poems laudatory. I have the 
kind permission of Lord Crewe to cull from its leaves what I 
like, and shall not confine myself to those which speak only to 
the praise of Mrs. Crewe. In page 1 I recognize the hand¬ 
writing of my grandfather, who lays down this rule:— 

« Whoever diverts him or herself with reading this book must either make some 
poetical additions, or write their names.” 

In the 3rd page are the following lines:— 


“August, 1774. 

“ To write one's name , and so confess 
Oneself the Queen of stupidness, 

Why that’s the very Devil; 

T’ attempt to Rhyme and bring to light 
One’s inability to write, 

Like Hinchliffe, Crewe, or Greville : 


In either case be brought to shame. 

Dear Mrs. Crewe you’re much to blame 
For having such a book; 

’Twould serve to line your christening cakes, 
To singe a fowl, envelop steaks; 

Pray send it to the cook.” 



312 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Notwithstanding this dilemma, on the horns of which some 
would hang in pitiable torture, pens fell to a scribbling; and 
one of these, directed by the head and hand of Pepper Arden, 

accomplished the following :— 1 

“Sept. 23, 1775. 

“Mrs. Crewe to Mr. Arden. —Come, Mr. Lawyer, now’s your time, 

To shew what you can do in Rhyme; 

To sit you down and call your Muse, 

I won’t permit you to refuse, 

Some verses for my Album Grcecum— 

If you’ve a thousand I bespeak ’em. 

“ Mr. Charles Crewe.— Indeed, Mrs. Crewe, you will find it too hard 

To change a dull lawyer into a hard; 

They cannot write verses, nor e’en will they try it, 
Unless they believe they can get something by it, 
Besides, they’ve forsworn all wit, humour, and joke, 
And deserted the Muses to follow Lord Coke ; 

I think that your Album will not be much better, 
For verses that must be wrote in the black letter. 

“ Mr. Arden. —Good Mr. Parson, go and preach, 

Nor venture thus beyond your reach 
T’ expound a Lawyer’s Creed; 

I must and will write verse at Crewe, 

Tho’ what you say is very true, 

A lawyer must be fee’d. 

§ 

So far the Priest and Lawyer join, 

We differ only in the coin 
That should reward our toils. 

You covet tithes of geese and pigs, 

But we, (the wearers of Tye-wigs,) 

Gold, and the Ladies’ smiles. 

Besides, I’m sure on this occasion, 

I strictly follow my profession, 

Nor can you find a flaw. 

I’m following Mrs. Crewe’s command, 

And every one must understand 
Her will to be the Law. 

And so to make good what I now here advance, Sir, 
If you’ll write some verses, I’ll send you an answer.” 

“Good Mr. Parson,” however, humbly declines this challenge: 

“ That I cannot write verse is, indeed, very true, 

So I humbly subscribe myself, 

Stupid Charles Crewe.” 


1 The whole written by Mr. Arden. 


BARTHOMLEY, 


313 


Farther on in the hook we drop upon some verses, written in 
tremulous characters, which make the sentiments they convey 
doubly and peculiarly touching: they are verses of Mrs. Gre- 
ville, the talented authoress of the “Ode to Indifference.” 

“ March 19th, 1783. 

“ Time was when many a cheerful thought, 

If not with wit, with fancy fraught, 

Had rush’d into my mind, 

Had my lov’d Fanny 1 giv’n a look, 

That seem’d a wish, in her ‘white hook,’ 

Some trace of me to find. 

But now, alas! those days are done, 

My pipe is broke, my muse is flown; 

And fancy fades away; 

Time’s heavy hand, with all his train 
Of sickly discontent and pain, 

Have seized me for their prey; 

Can I then write, as erst, with ease, 

And hope my partial Friend to please, 

"Who always lov’d my lays? 

Yes! to her kind, indulgent ear*, 

My tuneless notes will still appear, 

Like those of former days.” 

With a still more trembling hand Mrs. Crewe, senr., writes 
the following:— 

“With mod’rate Genius, much impair’d by age, 

Must I attempt the blotting of a page, 

And leave a proof of these defects at Crewe, 

And take in stupid rhyme my last adieu:— 

But let it speak my wish, relate my prayer— 

May num’rous blessings, unalloy’d by care! 

Ever attend the owners of this spot! 

Peace be their portion here, and heaven their future lot.” 

George Napier boldly declares himself invincible to the power 
of simple beauty:— 

“ Though Beauty gives pleasure, th’ impression is slight, 

Convey’d to the mind through the medium of sight; 

’Till wit wings the shaft, or sense points the dart, 

Cupid’s arrows shall ne’er find their way to my heart.” 


1 Mrs. Crewe. 


314 


BARTHOMLEY. 


A mighty pretty boast, which may, in my own language, be in¬ 
terpreted thus:— 

“ I’m conquered ! smitten! lovely Crewe! 

Beauty, wit, sense, I’ve found in you!” 

Lord Macartney, once our ambassador to China, declares his 
feelings in Latin verse:— 

“ Jernia nos genuit, vidit nos Africa, Gangem, 

Hausimus, Europamque oculis lustravimus omnem, 

Nec nobis latuit tellus patefacta Columbo 
Casibus et variis acti terraque marique 
Sistimus hie tandem, Nil visum tale fatentes 
Orbe decus quale in toto mirabile Crewce. 

“ Can Teymar. 

“ October 9th, 1786.” 

Imitated for the use of travellers in general:— 

“Me Ireland gave, and Afric’s shores have seen, 

Nor has the Ganges’ wave unquaff’d of, been, 

Through Europe’s various climates I have strayed, 

By various chance o’er seas and lands conveyed, 

E’en where Columbus found his western shore, 

I too have gaz’d, but wish to gaze no more; 

For when I rest my travel? d feet at last, 

In Crewe I find their ev’ry charm surpast.” 

I cannot say much for the original or the translation. 

Mr. Erskine, afterwards Lord Erskine, shews his wit in the 
form of an epigram:— 

“ The French have taste in all they do, 

Which we are quite without, 

For nature who to them gave gout, 

To us gave only gout.” 

Lord Palmerston writes very neatly:— 

“August 14, 1788. 

“ Here in rude state old Chieftains dwelt, 

Who no refinement knew, 

Small were the wants their Bosoms felt, 

And their Enjoyments few. 

But now by Taste and Judgment plann’d, 

Throughout these scenes we find 
The works of art’s improving hand 
With antient splendour joined. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


315 


And far more great the Owner’s Praise, 

In whom at once are shewn, 

The genuine worth of former days, 

The Graces of their own.” 

From George Canning are elicited a few sparks of brilliancy, 
in a humourous versification of an argument of Mrs. Crewe:— 

“ Argument. 

“ Mrs. Crewe having advanced, in a conversation at Tier farm, that all ner¬ 
vous complaints, whether proceeding from indisposition of body, or agitation 
of mind, produced a craving appetite,”— the following verses were designed 
to record her philosophical principles, after the example of Lucretius, who 
professed himself—in poetry—the scholar of Epicurus;—and of Pope, who 
enlisted himself under the banners of Bolingbroke:— 

“ ‘ Happy the fair who here retir’d, 

By sober contemplation fir’d, 

Delight from nature’s works can draw!’ 

(’Twas thus I spoke, when first I saw, 

That cottage, 1 which with chastest hand, 

Simplicity and taste have plann’d). 

‘Happy, who grosser cares resign’d, 

Content with hooks to feast her mind, 

Can leave life’s luxuries behind. 

Content, within this humble cell, 

With peace and temperance to dwell: 

Her food the fruits; her drink the well. 

’Twas thus of old.’—But, as I spoke, 

Before my eyes what dainties smoke! 

Not such, as Eremites of old, 

(In many a holy tale enroll’d,) 

Drawing from forth their frugal hoard, 

With nuts and apples crown’d the board; 

But such as fit for paunch divine, 

Might tempt a modern saint to dine! 

Then thus perceiving my surprise, 

Which star’d confess’d thro’ both my eyes, 

To vindicate her wiser plan 
The fair philosopher began:— 

‘Young gentleman, no doubt, you think,— 

(And here she paus’d awhile to drink)— 

All that you’ve said is mighty fine, 

(But won’t you take a glass of wine?)— 

You think these cakes are somewhat curious, 


1 Crewe-Green Farm. 


316 


BARTHOMLEY 


And for a Hermit too luxurious— 

But those old Fellows, (Lord preserve us!) 
Knew no such thing, as being nervous; 

Else had they found, what now I tell ye, 
How much the mind affects the belly,— 
Have found that when the mind’s opprest, 
Confus’d, elated, warm’d, distrest, 

The body keeps an equal measure, 

In sympathy of pain or pleasure; 

And, whether mov’d by joy or sorrow, 

From Food alone relief can borrow; 

Sorrow‘s, indeed, beyond all question, 

The best specific for digestion,—• 

Which, when with moderate force it rages, 

A chicken or a chop assuages; 

But to support some weightier grief, 

Grant me, ye Gods, a round of beef. 

Thus then, since abstract speculation, 

Must set the nerves in agitation, 

Absurd the plan, with books and study, 

To move the mind,—yet starve the body. 
These are my tenets;—if in me 
Practice and principles agree, 

See, then, beneath this roof combin’d, 

Food for the body and the mind. 

A couplet here, and there a custard, 

While sentiment, by turns, and mustard, 
Bedew with tears the glistening eye, ' 

Behold me now, with Otway sigh, 

Now revelling in pigeon-pie; 

And now in apt transition taken, 

From Bacon's works to eggs and bacon.' 

‘ Dear Mrs. Crewe, this wondrous knowledge, 
I own, I ne’er have learnt at College, 

You are my tutoress, w r ould you quite 
Confirm your wavering proselyte; 

I ask but this—to shew your sorrow— 

For my departure hence, to-morrow— 

Add to your dinner, for my sake, 

One supernumerary steak !' ” 


We have here evidence enough of the clever, fun-full writer 
in the Anti-Jacobin, the climax of his argument is a most comi¬ 
cal yet perfect specimen of the ‘recluctio ad absurdum I give 
you another of his:— 



BARTHOMLEY. 


31? 


“Authentic Account of a Voyage to China. 

“ By Sir G. Staunton, Bart., LL.D., &c., &c. 

See Vol . 1 st , p. 194. 

“ One Gentleman was very sick indeed, 

The following extract from his journal read: — 

‘What various pangs convuls’d my trembling frame, 

A wambling first, and next a reaching came! 

—Reaching so fierce, as at one gush to pour 
All my gorg’d stomach had engulpli’d before ; 

Green flow’d the bile in many a copious tide, 

Then with bright yelloiv ting’d the basin’s side; 

Then in thick streams a mucous fluid fell 
The subtlest taste discern’d nor taste nor smell; 

Wise Staunton tasted some, but nothing said, 

And grave Dinwiddie only shook his head; 

Meantime my gall’d intestines crept and curl’d, 

And round and round with tortuous motion twirl’d ; 

This caus’d a Hoemorrhage—which pour’d a flood 
Of gastrick juices first, and last of guimous blood; 

A constant nausea o’er my jaws prevail’d, 

My reason, mem’ry, sense, and judgment fail’d; 

Past, present, future, all were blank to me, 

And oh! sad state! ’twas burdensome to be; 

Oh! my poor head! not heavy as of yore, 

Light, light it was—and most exceeding sore, 

It swell’d as though its sutures soon must break — 

And then it ach’d! Good God, how it did ache!! 

Nor this alone ; for potent—(dire to tell, 

Ye sons of physick hear, and mark it well,) 

Upwards my peristaltic motion turn’d, 

And towards my mouth my labouring bowels yearn’d. 

* Learn hence, ye proud, who live at home at ease, 

Nor sail to distant lands through dang’rous seas; 

Learn, that though bright the far off prospect seems, 

Of China’s peopled shores and golden streams, 

(Bright to your eyes, for what have you to do, 

But just to read my Quarto volumes through?) 

That not to them the passage seems so fine, 

Poor souls! who feel sea sickness at the Line, 

That e’en th’ Ambassador, whose splendid name, 

Gilt with new titles, shines, and well-earn’d fame,— 

E’en I, who this long voyage undertook 
That I might get six guineas for my book; 

Great minds! and glowing in our country’s cause, 

Knights of her Bath, and Doctors of her laws; 

E’en We should dearly for our glory pay, 

If Heav’n ordained us sea-sick all the way.’ ” 


318 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Another entry in the album, though neither very witty, nor 
yet very droll, I transcribe, because it may interest you on ac¬ 
count of your grandfather, who figures therein:— 

“ Edward Hinchliffe being left at Crewe with nine Ladies, the party styled 
themselves Apollo and the Muses. A handkerchief, very ingeniously painted, 
was sent from Combermere Abbey, by Miss Cottons and Miss H. Boycott, 
with this direction:—‘To Apollo, from Three of the Nine.”' 

The following lines were sent in return:— 

“To Three of the Nine, by Apollo’s mad Poet. 

“Three Muses have in jest combin’d, 

To send a kerchief to Apollo, 

Is this the Index of their mind? 

Methinks some strange event will follow.” 

“By the Same:— 

“A color’d handkerchief can Ladies send? 

Alas how shocking! 

I’m sure it must come from some fogy friend 
Of the blue stocking.” 

“By Apollo. 

“ That Muses three, 

Should thus agree 
With me in love to fall, 

Appear so droll, 

Upon my soul, 

I’m dying for ye all!” 

“ Sun Fire Office, 17th Deer., 1794." 

Dr. C. Burney favours us with a “Doggrel Dialogue, in¬ 
tended for the Grub-street Journal”:— 

“Self and the Doctor. 

Self: 

“ The Grub-street bard, in days of yore. 

Sought for his muse the attic floor, 

He left Parnassus in the height, 

And nobly scorned a midway flight. 

So Doctor lay the pen aside; 

And, though thy patience may be tried, 

Hope no relief from song divine!— 

Ground floors ill suit a muse like thine.” 

Doctor: 

“Lay down the pen!—what, nothing more?— 

We shall not quarrel on that score— 

The task is easy to be free’d 
Prom writing, what none e’er will read. 

But here confin’d, I must complain; 

And thou must patience preach in vain.” 

Self: 

“ To Me, confinement's rest from pain, , 


Lie still;—nor my advice despise; 

Self sure may claim this sacrifice.” 

Doctor: 

“If Thou art quiet; still the mind 
Disdains to have her range confin’d. 

Nor rest, nor motion, high nor low. 

Can alter its perpetual flow. 

It keeps the tenour of its course; 

Restraint it bafles, laughs at force; 
Whate’er the place, it runs its race, 

And owns no bounds, but Nature’s space.” 
Self: 

“Agreed; but yet an ease from pain. 

To Me and to the mind is gain; 

And for thy losses, state th’ amount.”— 
Doctor: 

“Oh! every minute swells th’ account— 
While ling’ring here, I’m doomed to loose 
The varied flow’rs of matchless hues; 




BARTHOMLEY. 


319 


Which Templetown,l with unsought pow’r. 

Sheds o’er her conversation’s hour.” 

SELF: 

“Be patient!”— 

Doctor: 

“Patient!—fetter’d here 
I starve at once the eye and ear— 

Hark'.—Caroline- her skill displays. 

But shuns, while most she merits praise; 

And thinks not, when she sweeps the strings, 
WTiat pleasure in the circle springs— 

E’en now, perchance, she may comply, 

To gratify th’ admiring eye; 

And bring—reluctant—to their sight, 

Those Poems, 3 which ne’er should leave the light, 
The scissors point, at her command. 

More potent than a sorcerer’s wand. 

With easy elegance can trace 
The outlines undiminished grace; 

And humble though the tool, can teach, 

What heights of art Greece once could reach.” 

Self: 

“ Though thou mayst lose all these—and more 
Than all thy doggrel can deplore. 

Yet patience, steady at her station, 

Should rout her enemy, Vexation.” 

Doctoe: 

“Patience! while Greville’s 4 curious eye, 

Pervades the regions of the sky. 

And culls the sweets, which science yields, 

To decorate her fertile fields. 

Observe her unobtrusive air! 

Can learning’s depths invite her care? 

Yes! though a transient glance may trace 
The Mother's feelings in her face: 

WTien anxious for her offspring’s health,— 

The down cast eye, the sigh by stealth,— 


As nature bids;—-to looks impart 
The sad sensations of the heart ;— 

And still- 

Self: 

“ ’Tis true,—yet thou must own 
That rest will cure thy pain alone.” 

Doctoe: 

“ Why interrupt me!—thine’s the riot, 

Though all thy cry is, Patience! Quiet! 

Hark! through the air soft music floats; 
Eager I catch the distant notes, 

While Emma’s5 voice and hands inspire, 

With novel charms, the full ton’d lyre. 
Again;— Sophia 3 strikes the keys, 

And bids correctness join with ease. 

Now, both uniting, pour around 
The blended song’s estatic sound. 

Ah! lovely pair;—more polished lays. 

Than these, must celebrate your praise, 

Some chosen Bard, whom genius warms. 
Must tell your pow’rs, and sing your charm3. 
For me, impatience is the theme: 

I boast not poesy’s rich dream; 

Nor can reflection’s mirror cheer:— 

Still pleasure flies, though still she’s near. 
Yet more—to sharpen pains like these. 

To make confinement doubly teaze. 

The days are sinking fast from view, 

When I might sit, and think with Crewe'* 

Self: 

“Enough, enough! I quit the field; 

To this last grievance I must yield; 

My words, alas! are far too faint 
To heal so serious a complaint.” 

“C. Bueney, 

“ Rheumaticus.’ ; 


The Bishop of Meath—“ On revisiting Crewe , after an absence 


of tw r enty-five years;”—writes: 

“Though circling years have silver’d o’er my head, 

And many a friend has number’d with the dead, 

Since first these scenes, in early life, I sought, 

And stray’d where Linley charm’d, and Hinchliffe thought; 
Though scarce a feature mem’ry can retrace 
That mark’d the ancient Genius of the place, 

Yet, thus returning, still unchang’d I find 
A Greville’s features, and a Greville’s mind. 

The same in ev’ry sentiment and grace, 


1 Lady T. 2 The Hon ' Miss Upton * 

3 Shades in Miniature; whole lengths of single figures and groups, cut, with exquisite delicacy, in paper. 

i Mrs. Hairy' Greville, one of whose children was then ill, in London. 

5 Miss Crewe. 6 The Honourable Miss S. Upton. 




320 


BARTI10MLEY. 


That mind still keeps the promise of the face, 

And Amoret’s portrait, touch’d by time, displays 
Tints but more mellow’d, more secure of praise. 

And while by discord split, and patriot rage, 

I mourn the friendships of that happier age: 

Alike unchang’d thy honest worth, dear Crewe, 

Preserves thy party, and thy friendships too, 

To Portland just, though still in buff and blue.”, 

« Dec. 7th, 1806. T. L. Meath.” 

“ That mind still keeps the promise of the face ,” is a happy 
allusion to Fox’s well-turned compliment. I shall have occa¬ 
sion to copy something more from the “Album”—for the pre¬ 
sent I close its pages. 

There are three portraits of Lady Crewe, at Crewe Hall, by 
Sir Joshua Reynolds; one, wherein she appears as a shepherd¬ 
ess, and which has this peculiarity, her eyes are not seen. The 
painter has painted her looking down upon a book in order to 
give full effect to her eye-lashes, which were dark, long, and 
very expressive. Sir Thomas Lawrence, too, made a portrait 
of her in old age, which retains, in an unusual degree, the 
traces of former beauty. She died December 23rd, 1818, and 
was buried in the family vault at Barthomley, and with her 
Crewe Hall lost its prestige of gaiety and wit. Her husband, 
now in years, dwelt there, after a patriarchal fashion, in stately, 
monotonous hospitality, with a small number of relations; and 
all will know that a ‘nepotic’ party is usually not a little dull 
and contracted, in more ways than one. 

The first Lord Crewe left a son, and a daughter who married 
Foster Cunliffe, Esq., eldest son of Sir Foster Cunliffe, Bart., 
of Acton Park, near Wrexham, Denbighshire. After her fa¬ 
ther’s death she added Offley to her own and husband’s name, 
being possessed, by her father’s will, of the Staffordshire es¬ 
tates, formerly the Offleys’. At Madeley, her husband built a 
commodious mansion, and affixed to it the old title ‘Madeley 
Manor.’ Under its roof were frequent gatherings of the literary 
and clever ‘lions’ of the day. 

Mrs. Cunliffe Offley had not her mother’s beauty, but more 



BARTHOMLEY. 


321 


than her mother’s wit, and the happy and rare accomplishment 
of knowing how ‘tenir un salon.’ Few professionals could sing 
like she; and they who have heard ‘Old Robin Gray’ from her 
lips, will not forget the scene her pathos and musical voice and 
expressive countenance produced; tears and suppressed sobs 
from listeners accompanied her throughout . 1 Mr. Luttrell 
speaks of her musical talents in the Album:— 

“On leaving Crewe Hall. 

“Adieu, the festive hall, its groves and meads, 

"Where pleasure cheers the life that virtue leads. 

Adieu, the noble pair, who, skill’d to please, 

Can temper dignity with wit and ease. 

Adieu, the Offspring of their mutual love, 

Whose angel strains seem borrow’d from above. 

Oh! still they vibrate on my ravish’d ear: 

And now elate with hope, now sink with fear; 

Now tell of virgin innocence beguil’d, 2 
The mother dying by her lifeless child; 

And draw from every breast the secret sigh, 

And force reluctant tears from every eye. 

Think not, because thy melodies controul 
Each feeling and affection of the soul, 

Unjustly think not, Emma, that we’re blind 
To all the treasures of thy polish’d mind. 

Thy letter’d taste, and gentle, feeling heart; 

That to thy manners nameless charms impart; 

That heart, whose soft emotions we can trace 
In each expressive feature of thy face. 

The more we gaze, the more we own thy power, 

New beauties are disclos’d each rising hour. 

Ah! who that knows the social joys of Crewe, 

E’er bade without regret those joys adieu ? 

1 “June 1st, 1819.—Dinner at Lord Crewe’s: company—Luttrell, Rogers, the 
Cunliffes, &c. Lord Crewe said he had a letter from Sheridan to Mrs. Greville, 
prefixed as a sort of dedication to some MS. book of poems, which he would let me 

see.I sung in the evening, and Mrs. Cunliffe sung a song of Lewis’s— ‘ I am 

not mad, I am not mad,’ without accompaniment. The energy with which she 
gives these songs is sometimes rather painful; but they have great effect. I have 
seen numbers in tears at her ballad—‘It was a winter's evening.’ She and Cunliffe 
invited me very earnestly to their seat in Wales. All went to an assembly at 
Sotheby’s in the evening.”— Journal of Thomas Moore, edited by Lord John Russell. 

2 See a song called the “Winter’s Evening.” 

R 1 



322 


BARTHOMLEY. 


But hope can look to pleasures yet in store, 

When London’s gay and magic scenes are o’er; 

When tired of Courts and fashion’s giddy train, 

You seek the quiet of the rural plain ; 

Then hope, exulting, whispers I shall view 
Again the lake, the woods, and lawns of Crewe, 

Again partake its hospitable cheer, 

And Emma’s strains again enchant my ear!” 

Mrs. Cunliffe Offley died in London, s. p. Feb. 15, 1850, and 
was buried in the vault belonging to her husband’s family, in 
Wrexham Church: and the Offley estates reverted to the name 
of Crewe. 

Near the station of the London and North Western Railway, 
at Madeley, is a memorial of Mrs. Cunliffe Offley, of which you 
may have caught a glimpse as the train has hurried you by. 
It will best speak for itself:— 

“ THIS FOUNTAIN 
WAS ERECTED 
AND THESE ALLOTMENTS 
GIVEN TO THE POOR : 

A.D. MDCCCL. 

BY THE HON BLE 
ANNABEL HUNGERFORD CREWE 
AS A TRIBUTE OF 
LOVE AND GRATITUDE 
TO HER AUNT 
THE HON BBE 

ELIZ TH EMMA CUNLIFFE OFFLEY 
OF MADELEY MANOR 
WHO 

“STRETCHED OUT HER HAND 
TO THE POOR! 

YEA, SHE STRETCHED FORTH 
HER HANDS TO THE NEEDY.” 

PROVERBS CHAPR XXXI. VERSE XX. 

“that which thou sowest is not 

QUICKENED, EXCEPT IT DIE—SO ALSO IS THE 
RESURRECTION OF THE DEAD. 

IT IS SOWN IN CORRUPTION ; IT IS RAISED 
IN INCORRUPTION—IT IS SOWN IN DISHONOUR ; 

IT IS RAISED IN GLORY.” i CORINTH CHAP. XV. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


323 


“ THE GRASS WTTHERETH, THE FLOWER FADETH : BUT 
THE WORD OF OUR GOD SHALL STAND FOR EVER.” ISAIAH XL. V. 8. 

Three acres of land are attached to this erection—divided 
into 16 allotments—held by labourers of good character, at an 
annual rent of 5s. each; this forms a fund for the preservation 
of the memorial, gates, and a house, in which a person lives 
and takes care of the grounds, &c., paying a very small rent. 
The Trustees are, the Owner of the Madeley estates, the Yicar 
and Churchwardens of the parish for the time being, and Mr. 
and the Honourable Mrs. Milnes. 

John, second Lord, married, 5th May, 1807, Henrietta 
Maria Anna, only daughter of George Walker, Esq., of Stud- 
leighhouse, near Caine, co. Wilts, who assumed the name of 
Hungerford; and by her—who died 14th June, 1820, and was 
buried at Barthomley—he had Henrietta Hungerford Offley, 
Maria Anne Offley (died 1812), Hungerford, and Annabella 
Hungerford. 

His lordship died at Bois-l’-eveque, near Liege, Belgium, 4th 
December, 1835, and was buried at Barthomley. 

He was a general in the army; had seen some service, in 
which he lost the sight of an eye. He did not, after he came 
into possession of the title and estates, ever reside at Crewe 
Hall. For many years he had lived abroad, and, latterly, at 
Bois-l’-eveque, a chateau beautifully situated on the summit of 
one of the lines of hills, which form the lovely valley of the 
Meuse, between Liege and Namur, and once, I believe, the pro¬ 
perty of the Prince Bishop of Liege. When young he accom¬ 
panied Lord Macartney to China, and brought back from that 
country some drawings of the mode of cultivating the tea plant, 
and gathering and packing its leaves for use, now at Crewe 
Hall, and other curiosities. He was a man of considerable 
talent and information, and having travelled and seen much, 
had a large fund of amusing and instructive anecdotes. He 
w r as succeeded by his only son, Hungerford, the present Lord. 

Two daughters survive: Henrietta, residing at Taunton, and 


BARTHOMLEY. 


324 

Annabella, married, at Madeley, co. Stafford, July 31st, 1851, 
to Richard Monckton Milnes, Esq., M.P. for Pontefract, York¬ 
shire, well-known for his writings, and praiseworthy efforts to 
extend the advantages of education and literature among the 
masses of this kingdom. They have issue a daughter, born in 
London, Aug. 3rd, 1852, and christened, at St. Mark’s district 
church, in St. George’s parish, Amicia Henrietta. 1 

Of the existing members of the family, posterity must speak, 
not I. 

Yours, &c. 


LETTER XXI. 


MY DEAR BOY. 

E come to the Hall and its grounds. 

The Hall was built by the Chief Justice, Sir 
Ranulphe Crewe, most probably on the site of 
the former mansion, a part of which was lately 
discovered, when some repairs were making in the drawing¬ 
room of the present one. The first stone was laid the 15th 
April, 1615, and the house was finished in 1636. The name of 
the architect is unknown; but he is supposed to have been an 
Italian. 2 In 1643, Dec. 27th, Crewe Hall became the scene of 
a conflict between the Royalists and Parliamentarians who then 
held it. Burghall, in his diary, states:— 

1 Amicia is a name which was given to one of the house of Crewe, in the reign of 
Edward I., she was so named after her mother, whose maiden surname is not known. 

s “ In the absence of any acknowledged architectural designs for this noble mansion, 
materials before me warrant my concurring in the opinion (expressed by Britton and 
Brayley, “ Beauties of England’’^ that Inigo Jones was the artist employed by Sir Ran. 
Crewe, although he might have been assisted by an Italian architect”— Mr. Jones , of 
Nantwich. 

























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CREWE HALL,IN THE TTME OE SIR RANDULPHE CREWE 









































































































































































































































































































































































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BARTHOMLEY. 


325 


“ The Royalists laid siege to Crewe Hall, where they within the house 
slew sixty, and wounded many, on St. John’s day; hut wanting victuals and 
ammunition, they were forced to yield up the next day, and themselves, a 
hundred and thirty six, became prisoners; stout and valiant soldiers, having 
quarter for life granted them.” 

In 1644, February 4 th— 

“The Nantwich forces assaulted Crewe Hall, then kept by Captain 
Fisher, which was presently surrendered, on condition that he and his men, 
about 120, with the wounded, might depart safe, leaving their arms; many 
of them came that same day to Nantwich, where they were entertained.” 

Happily, in these assaults the beautiful house was not seri¬ 
ously damaged; and “that model of excellent building,” as 
Fuller calls it, remains to give a pattern “of loftiness, sightli¬ 
ness, and pleasantness,” for other structures; and to be an ob¬ 
ject “of general admiration” to this day. Ormerod describes 
it 1 as:— 

“A quadrangular building; the materials are chiefly red brick; but 
others of darker colours are disposed in diamonds throughout. The door¬ 
cases and mullions of the windows, coinings, strings, and cornices, are of 
stone. Each front is broken by the projections of large bay windows, giving 
an unusual relief and boldness of light and shade to the building, which is 
much increased by the open-work of the battlements. Heavy groups of tall 
octagonal chimneys add also to the variety of effect, and the impressiveness 
of the architecture.” 

This is very well as a general description, but you will ex¬ 
pect a more particular one from me; I will, therefore, first in¬ 
troduce you to the house as it was in Sir Ranulphe’s time, 
which two paintings, at Crewe Hall, fortunately enable me to 
do; and then to the house as it appears now. It may be said 
to have passed through three gradations: original , destructive, 
restorative . We will try to keep them distinct. But, first of all, 
be it understood, that the house and adjoining premises are 
Elizabethan, i . e., of the mixed styles of Gothic, Italian, and 
Classic, introduced in the days of good Queen Bess, and called, 
in consequence, Elizabethan. 

The original condition of the hall and premises varies much 


History of Cheshire, vol. 3, page 168. 


326 


BARTHOMLEY. 


from wliat it is at present. A bird’s eye view of them, and an ex¬ 
cellent painting of the south side of the house—in the entrance 
hall,—afford me the means of giving a pretty correct account 
of it; and, first of all, of the approach. The hall and premises 
seem to be enclosed by roads—not intersecting a park, hut 
small enclosures, such as are yet prevalent in Cheshire. From 
one of these roads you turn into a way paved with round and 
equally sized stones, laid down in lozenge pattern, and flanked 
with strong wooden palings, and having on the right a square 
piece of water. Before you is an arched gateway of stone, 
richly decorated, having over it the family arms, and a motto 
very creditable to Sir Banulplie Crewe, who seems, from it, in 
all his desires and struggles after the things of this world, not 
to have lost sight of HIM who is the giver—“ Quid retrihuam 
Domino?”—What shall I render unto the Lord? A brick 
screen, coped with stone, extends right and left from the gate¬ 
way, and terminates with a small lodge at each end. From the 
gateway you enter a court-yard, and following the lozenge- 
paved path, come to a stone flight of six steps, the spandrel 
and balustrade of which are finished by a panelled pedestal, 
with moulded bases and caps, surmounted by a lion sejant, his 
forepaws resting on a shield. These steps lead to a terrace 
running parallel to the whole width of the south front, and pro¬ 
tected bjr a double balustrade, divided into compartments by 
panelled piers—the front balustrade resting on corbels. Five 
more steps bring you to the floor of the Porch, which rises to 
the top of the house, and is uncommonly beautiful; decorated 
with a rich and varied profusion of the ornaments belonging to 
this peculiar architecture. It is divided into three stages by 
cornices: the lower one is composed of an entrance archway, 
flanked by four three-quarter fluted columns, on pedestals; the 
middle one contains a small three-lighted window, placed be¬ 
tween coupled pilasters; and the upper one with a large window 
of twelve lights, margined with Tudor roses and ornamental 


BARTHOMLEY. 


327 


quoins; below this window is a scrolled ornament, in the 
centre of which is a shield hearing the family arms; the whole 
is crowned by a double parapet—the upper one pierced with 
quatre foils, and the lower one enriched with Tudor roses 
and trusses. 

The East Front looks into a walled flower garden of trim 
parterres. Statues and vases are placed here and there, and 
slopes of grass support raised terrace walks 1 on the north, east, 
and south: on the north side are also two rows of trees, kept 
low, and forming an avenue. At the north-western angle stands 
a garden house. The North Front of the house we cannot, 
of course, see in the picture, and I shall not draw upon my 
imagination for a description of it. 

The West Front is equally well finished as the others, 
and separated from a range of offices by a court-yard. A door 
from this yard opens into a kitchen garden, walled on three 
sides—the fourth side being formed by the front of the stables, 
against which fruit trees were nailed. Every side of the hall 
was fully seen, and although each differs from the others 
in design, yet it is worthy of observation, that the whole so 
harmonizes, that, viewing the house in perspective from a short 
distance, each side appears alike. 

We will now enter the House through the open porch, which 
I have spoken of, whose ceiling is decorated with interlaced 
scroll-work, and which has on each side a carved oak seat— 
plain, but exceedingly tasteful. And here let me observe, that 
the unity of decorative design is admirable throughout: inside 
and outside of the house it is preserved, strictly and minutely; 
every ornament, however varied in form, has but one distinctive 
character—like the leaves of a tree, differing from each other 
in form and size, and yet having the same characteristics which 
indicate the kind of tree to which they belong. The old door 

1 Sir Ranulpbe Crewe appears to have taken much pride in this walk, thus express¬ 
ing his attachment to it,—“ My terras walk, with the great prospect of it, is to me of no 
small regard.” 


328 


BARTHOMLEY. 


of the house was of massive oak, and studded with nails. En¬ 
tering, you came into a narrow and rather low passage, termi¬ 
nating with a stone arched door-way, and heavy oak door. On 
the right were two open archways, in an oak screen of uncom¬ 
mon richness and beauty, through these you passed into the 
Hall, once floored with black and white marble, and going 
through a door-way at the further end, you came suddenly 
upon a noble staircase, which, facing you, produces an effect al¬ 
most electrical. On the first landing place was the parlour, in 
which, on ordinary occasions, the family partook of meals, hav¬ 
ing a back communication with the servants’ offices. On the 
top landing place, or first floor, was a passage to the right, 
leading to the picture-room and gallery—a splendid room, 
about 96 feet in length, and panelled with oak to the ceiling; 
on the left was the drawing-room, and a passage branching off 
to the best bed-rooms: I do not describe these rooms to you 
now, as I shall have occasion to do this hereafter. 

The Chapel, in the centre of the north-side of the house, was 
wainscoated, and had open seats of oak, and an oaken close 
galleried pew, taken from a passage above, at the south side, 
and lighted with elliptical windows, looking into the chapel. 
Underneath, on the side next the chapel, w r as an arched screen, 
behind which was a pew for servants. It had also a stained 
window, representing ‘the offering of Isaac,’ and ‘the Annun¬ 
ciation.’ The house being quadrangular, the inmost space 
formed a square open court. Such, as near as I can make it 
out, were the original structure and its adjoining premises. 

We will now view them in their destructive state, and as I 
myself remember them. Time came when national taste as to 
buildings, and the laying out of gromids, experienced a wretch¬ 
ed change—and retrograded, and languished almost to extinc¬ 
tion. Some aspiring landscape-gardeners resolved to introduce, 
what they were pleased to designate, English scenery; and, in 
order to do this, they deemed it necessary to demolish all ter- 








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CREWE HAL I 

FAST VIFW. 







































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BARTHOMLEY. 


329 


races, balustrades, straight walks, box embroideries, beds cut 
out in lace-like patterns, &c., &c. To them a Dutch garden 
was an abomination; an Italian one a heresy: let England have 
its own style; and let this be formed in walks through shrub¬ 
beries, imitating nature, and dotted about on grass-plots; let 
every thing architectural and avowedly artificial be carefully es¬ 
chewed. Bring your approach sideways to the house, and not 
at right angles to the front: no one ought to see you coming; 
the British love for privacy must be respected. Bring your 
park close to the front door; separate the two by an invisible 
iron fence, so that your house will appear to stand in simple 
majesty in the midst of its park, and your oxen, and deer, and 
sheep, may enjoy the privilege of peeping in at the windows of 
your well-furnislied rooms. Now, a gentleman, adopting these 
tenets, came unluckily to Crewe Hall: he drew his lines, erected 
his batteries, and nature laid siege to art. What Boyalists and 
Parliamentarians did not—that did he: down went garden 
walls, and garden houses; and slopes, and terraces, and balus¬ 
trades, and steps; and parterres, and avenues; and, oh! sacri¬ 
lege ! down went, also, that lovely gateway, with its pious mot¬ 
to, reminding the proud owner of the mansion and domains, 
every time he passed through it, that he was but “a steward,” 
and had received his talent to be employed for Him who gave 
it. Down, too, went the offices; and nothing now remains but 
the old fashioned stables, and the large square Hall itself, dis¬ 
robed and naked. Shortly, a carriage-road steals up the bank 
from a wooden bridge, thrown across the streams that feed the 
lake; to that east door, which once opened into the flower-gar¬ 
den, iron hurdles are placed about thirty yards from the house, 
to protect the gravel walk from the visits of sheep and cattle. 
This carriage road winds round the corner of the house—passes 
by the south front, and the noble porch, robbed of its occupa¬ 
tion, and its door closed—and through some turnings, arrives 
at the stable yard. The pool of water in front of the south en- 


330 


BARTHOMLEY. 


trance is filled up, the lozenge-fashioned pavement is taken 
away, and a flat grass-plot, so natural and green, usurps their 
place; whilst the front of the stables is hidden by a thick 
hedge of evergreens. 

Not long after this the want of the demolished offices was 
felt, and an architect of some fame was invited to plan new 
ones. He had the picture of the old house and offices, as de¬ 
signed by the first architect, to consult, but this he did not; 
and then arose that monstrous and unseemly excrescence, 
which has wholly destroyed the west front of the mansion, and 
the elevation and proportions of the whole building! 1 You will 
hardly believe that another gentleman proposed to cover the 
house with cement, in order that it might appear to be built of 
stone! His plans are yet at Crewe Hall; records of the depth 
of degradation in bad taste which professionals will sometimes 
fall into. 

But, if barbarism ruled over the outside , the inside of the 
house did not less escape from its withering touch. The 
carved and richly grained oak was deemed dark and gloomy, 
and painters were employed to give it a more cheerful hue; 
and, accordingly, they daubed the screen in the hall, the panel¬ 
lings in most of the rooms, and the banisters of the staircase, 
with several coats of white paint! Two panelled bed-rooms, 
and the panelled gallery, were deprived of their melancholic 
tendencies by being 'papered! The latter, too, was disfigured by 
four Classic columns, placed there to support the ceiling, which 
was pronounced to be defective. The Hall was turned into a 
dining-room; doors were placed in the archways of the oak 
screen; and the lower part of the chimney piece gave way to a 
more modern marble substitute. In the Chapel, a gallery was 
thrown out from an adjoining dressing-room, for the use of the 

i How far Sir Ranulphe Crewe would have approved of the disfigurement of his 
original design will best appear by his own sentiment, to which my attention was di¬ 
rected long after this letter was written,—“ When a thing is well done it is twice done, 
and patching I cannot abide.” 


BARTHOMLEY. 


331 


family; and a covered way was made for the convenience of 
servants through the Inner Court, which, I confess, was cer¬ 
tainly an improvement. This was the condition of house and 
premises, when their present owner came into possession of 
them. 

A re-action in architectural knowledge and taste had begun. 
Hungerford, Lord Crewe, felt its influence, and at once re¬ 
solved to restore the house, as far as it was available, and to 
lay out gardens and grounds in accordance with the date and 
style of the house, though not after the plans of the originals. 

We now glide into the restorative. Mr. Blore was request¬ 
ed to restore and adapt the house to present wants. Mr. 
Nesfieid was engaged to lay out and alter the grounds. Mr. 
Blore—not only a master, but an enthusiastic admirer of Eliza¬ 
bethan architecture—entered upon his work with a love for it; 
a sure earnest of success. His hand waved the artistic wand 
over the mutilated mansion, and you see it as it is. Ceilings 
taken down and renewed after their original patterns; new 
ones, designed by Mr. Blore, in perfect keeping, paint removed 
from oak panellings, fittings, and staircase, exhibited the happy 
results of renascent taste. But we will take an inner survey of 
the house, and describe, in order, what was done:— 

Entrance Porch. —Here a new oaken wicket and door; the 
ceiling repaired; the quaint old seats re-varnished. 

Entrance Hall almost entirely new. The wall which was 
on the left of the entrance passage being taken down; a richly 
sculptured stone screen with three archways supplies its place. 
Through these archways you pass into a new hall, once the pri¬ 
vate room of the first lord, neither large nor lofty, but not 
without its merits; a new scrolled ceiling; an oak wainscot 
and chimney-piece, the upper part of which is framed to con¬ 
tain a portrait of Sir Ranulphe Crewe, may claim some admira¬ 
tion; whilst a fine ‘Interior of a Cathedral,’ by P. Neff, and two 
pictures of the house itself, will attract attention. The Porter's 


382 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Visit Book lies on one of the tables, and contains the following 
interesting entry:— 

“Thursday, July 31st, 1851. 

Viscountess Galway. 

Viscountess Combermere. 

Viscount Galway. 

Combermere. 

Hatberton. 

r Meliora Stapleton Cotton. 

Catherine Greville. 

Susan Emily Waddington. 

iFanny Elizabeth Blackburne. 

Mrs. Henry Greville. 

Mrs. Marmaduke Wyvill. 

Mr. Marmaduke Wyvill. 

Miss Milnes. 

Rob. P. Milnes. 

Greville Morier. 

Offley Crewe. 

Henry Ireland Blackburne. 

William Ireland Blackburne. 

Mrs. Thomas Blackburne. 

Mrs. T. Townley Parker. 

T. Townley Parker. 

Brooke Greville. 

Mr. Algernon Greville. 

“ This party was assembled at Crewe Hall to assist at the wedding of 
Miss Annabella Crewe with Mr. Richard Monckton Milnes, M.P., which 
took place at Madeley Church, Staffordshire.” 

The above names are autographs; and the four young ladies, 
whose names are in the bracket, acted as bridesmaids on the 
occasion. The party assembled at Madeley Manor, on the 
morning of the 81st July, and were joined there by Mrs. Ed¬ 
ward and Miss Fanny Duncombe, Miss Ellen Toilet, your 
mama, and myself. About ten a.m. we left for the church, 
where, notwithstanding the unpropitious weather, a great crowd 
had collected, filling the church and churchyard, about the wes¬ 
tern entrance, and lining each side of the high-road for some 
distance. After the ceremony the party hastened to Crewe 



BARTHOMLEY. 


333 


Hall, wliere Mr. Toilet and the Rev. Edward Duncombe joined 
it, and all sat down to a most sumptuous dejeune. After 
healths and speeches, and a little lull from excitement, the 
bride and bridegroom left for Teddesley, the seat of Lord 
Hatherton, in Staffordshire. 

The Inner Hall is wholly new. The old passages are 
taken down, and Mr. Blore’s genius having hit upon some fine 
oak pillars, belonging to the stalls in one of the stables, imme¬ 
diately converted them into pillars for the support of the roof, 
emblazoned with armorial bearings and cyphers at the sides, 
and lighted in the centre by a sky-light. The floor is formed 
of marble pieces of different colours. The whole effect is good; 
turning the old square yard to architectural and ornamental ac¬ 
count; in fact, making it look like a cloister leading to the 
chapel. Out of this hall a new communication is made to the 
grand staircase, by which the necessity of passing to it through 
the dining-room is avoided. 

The Oak Parlour, formerly the steward’s-room, is the pre¬ 
sent Lord Crewe’s “own room.” It is panelled, and has a de¬ 
corated ceiling. The chimney-piece is worth observing, being, 
in great part, of oak, ornamented with a profusion of interlaced 
scroll work, and on the top having the lion, shamrock, and 
thistle, which, at once, decides the date of the building of the 
house to be in the reign of James I., when the symbols of the 
three kingdoms were united: the marble part of the chimney- 
piece is new. 

The Dining-Room is spacious, lofty, and, in all respects, 
well proportioned. Its ceiling is enriched with pendants. The 
walls are partly wainscoted, and partly of ornamental plaister 
work. The large screen at the end is profusely carved in 
the mixed style, and gives to the room the appearance of a col¬ 
lege hall. The chimney-piece is very handsome, the lower part 
of veined marble, after an elaborate design by Mr. Blore; the 
upper part of plaister, and containing an allegorical device, the 


334 


BARTHOMLEY. 


meaning of which sages have not as yet settled: the figure of a 
woman seated on a hall or globe, extends her right hand, hold¬ 
ing a sceptre, which points to horses, and cattle, and deer, 
some feeding, some reposing, and others frisking about; hut all 
appearing to he in a state of harmonious enjoyment. Her left 
hand holds out a bunch of grapes; and on this side are men 
engaged in deadly warfare, and bears, erect on their hind legs, 
either dancing from drunkenness, or about to spring on one 
another in mortal combat. At the foot of the figure, on the 
left hand, is a little naked hoy, seated with a dog under his 
arm; and on the other hand, another naked lad leans forward, 
as if to listen to what was going on. What these young gentle¬ 
men signify I cannot even conjecture. The female figure may 
teach us that if the world he governed with the sceptre of tem¬ 
perance, all will be peaceful harmony and joy; but if the fruit 
of the vine exercises a sovereignty, all will be quarrelling, fight¬ 
ing, death: suitable admonitions in a room which, of yore, 
served the double purpose of an entrance hall, and dining-room 
on high days and holidays at Christmas, when the yule log was 
cast upon the fire, and master and servant, and visitor and ten¬ 
ant, dined and supped within the same room. This interpreta¬ 
tion partly accords with verses in the Album, written by my 
private tutor—the Rev. R. C. Cameron,—who visited the house 
in the year 1818: he calls the figure Wisdom;—and she may 
be so;—shewing the world the results of obedience and excess: 
at all events, I have not yet met with any other explanation de¬ 
serving the name of one. The following are the verses. My 
kind and excellent tutor seems to have overlooked, in the hurry 
of composition, that “oft” does not rhyme with “forgot,”—but 
let that pass:— 

“On an Emblematical Figure, at Crewe Hall, in the Old Baronial 

Hall. 

“ The precepts of morality too oft 
Are heard, like passing winds, and then forgot. 

Example strikes the sense with brighter ray, 

And o’er the mind exerts more lasting sway. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


335 


Within this festive hall, where plenty reigns, 

And hospitality her rites maintains, 

Where various tastes new appetite create, 

And freedom tempts to joys intemperate ; 

See Wisdom umpire sits: at her command, 

Two living scenes arise on either hand: 

Intemperance there misrules, and o’er the world 
Disease, war, death, and ruin wide has hurl’d; 

Obedience here, o’er all the tranquil plain, 

Controls her sons, and holds her scepter’d reign; 

She bids the rising storm of passion cease, 

Heals nature’s wounds, and breathes celestial peace, 

Purges the soul from grief and sinful joy, 

And feeds on fruits of life which never cloy.” 

The Chapel lias undergone extensive change. The upper 
front of the original pew, which formerly reached to the ceil¬ 
ing, is removed to make way for a lower and an open one, and 
the passage at the back being taken in, greatly increases the 
accommodation. The dressing-room protuberance is wholly 
demolished. The seats, and pulpit, and communion table re¬ 
main as they were. There are here two good paintings 
but, unfortunately, each of them in a bad light—by Luca 
Giordano: one — ‘The Ascension,’—on the west wall; the 
other—‘The greeting of Mary by Elizabeth,’—on the east. 
The Ten Commandments, and texts from Holy Scripture, 
are richly painted on parts of the walls, and the old stained 
glass in the altar window is taken away, and superseded 
by new, representing the twelve Apostles. The four animals 
described by Ezekiel, and fancifully turned by Irenseus into 
symbols of the four Evangelists: the head of the man of St. Mat¬ 
thew; the lion of St. Mark; the calf of St. Luke; the eagle of 
St. John. The ceiling has a large pendant in the centre, and 
four angels fluttering about it. This chapel was consecrated 
by Bishop Bridgeman, 9th of August, 1635. Once only, I be¬ 
lieve, has it been used for the marriage service. The marriage 
of Robert, seventh Viscount Kilmorey, 1 with Miss Mary Offley, 
only daughter of John Crewe Offley, Esq., was solemnized 

1 He died young, in 1710, but his lady survived him many years, dying in 1765, aged 80. 


336 


BARTHOMLEY. 


therein on the 19th August, 1701, by the Rev. Brian Shaw, 
Rector of Barthomley; her eldest brother, John Crewe Offley, 
giving her away, and her youngest brother, Crewe Offley, after¬ 
wards of Wichnor, co. Stafford, and Charles Cholmondeley, of 
Yale Royal, Esq., officiating as groomsmen; and Lady Anne 
Hastings and Miss Betty Aston as bridesmaids. 

The Staircase, as Ormerod says, is— 

“ Of singular curiosity and beauty, ascending to the apartments on the 
first floor, in. many successive turnings. The uprights at the angles are 
carved in the style of mingled architecture prevalent at the time of the build¬ 
ing, and support rampant figures of various animals, supporting armorial 
shields. The sides are of open-work, designed in a similar style.” 

The lobby of the staircase has now two oaken screens in the 
north and south angles; one, to shield the house from the 
draughts of the east entrance; the other, to officiate as a closet. 
A new fire place has been made here: over the chimney-piece 
is the Crewe pedigree, as drawn out by Dugdale, 3rd August, 
1663, and on each side of it a full length portrait: one, of 4 The 
heiress of Crewe—Mrs. Offley;’ the other of her husband: op¬ 
posite to them are, also, two full length portraits of unknown 
members of the family. At the foot of the staircase are two 
statues: one, of 4 Cupid in Disguise,’ by Gibson; the other, of 
4 A Nymph preparing for the Bath,’ by Wyatt: they do not 
well amalgamate with the things about them. A stained glass 
window has lately been placed on the staircase: the first com¬ 
partment of which has the arms of Ranulphe Crewe; the se¬ 
cond, of John Offley; the third, of John, first Baron Crewe; 
the fourth, of John, second Baron Crewe. 

The Carved ParLour is, I think, the most perfect and 
beautiful, though far from being the largest room in the house. 
It is now used as a drawing-room. I wish I had sufficient ar¬ 
chitectural knowledge and ability to describe it to you minute¬ 
ly, as it ought to be described. The first thing which strikes 
you on entering, is the splendid chimney-piece—splendid, not 
in richness and glare of materials, for it is only of stone and 


BARTHOMLEY. 


337 


plaster; but in boldness and execution of design, and the 
‘morale’ of the tale it tells. The lower part is stone, full ot 
easy flowing scroll-work, deeply sculptured, and shewing, clear¬ 
ly and distinctly, its pattern at any part of the room. Above is 
plaster work, but turned to a use so excellent as to deserve espe¬ 
cial notice, for it holds forth a lesson to all who see it, which 
was closely observed by the builder of the house—Sir Ranulphe 
Crewe, and is, accordingly, a precious and instructive expres¬ 
sion of his own experience. A large figure of Time, in the cen¬ 
tre, holds, in his left hand , a whip and rod, which he presents to 
an idle fellow, in rags and tatters, stretched on the ground, with 
one arm leaning on a pallet: various symptoms of idleness are 
about him; weeds and thistles are abundant in his fields: his 
house , a half timbered one, is gone to rack and ruin; his trees 
are dead; whilst a galloivs and gibbet-tree are awaiting him in 
the distance. In his right hand Time has a book and crown, 
which he offers to an industrious man, hard at work, digging. 
The land of this man produces an abundance of corn and fruit; 
his house has the appearance of a castle; his trees are flourish¬ 
ing in rich foliage, and doves, the emblems of love and peace, 
are resting upon them, and flying about. What a charming in¬ 
centive to industry! Time did, indeed, well reward the indefa¬ 
tigable Ranulphe; and gave him the judicial book of the Lord 
Chief Justice; and crowned him with success in one great end of 
his labours—the possession of fruitful acres and a noble house! 

The wainscoting and doors, of choice oak, must not be over¬ 
looked; nor the plaster figures above the wainscot, by which 
the elements, the sciences, the moral and Christian viitues, are 
symbolised. The ceiling is rich, and has in its centre, in an 
elliptical compartment, a woman nearly naked, with a scarf 
negligently thrown over her, and fluttering in the breeze: 
her right hand rests upon her hip; her left holds a flower to 
the setting sun: a tree is at her back—a cloud over her head— 
a fungus springs up near her—and a toad crouches at her feet. 

T 1 


338 


BARTHOMLEY. 


I know not what these mean, and shall be glad to learn from 
any sage in symbols what the allegory is. 

The Library has been enlarged by the addition of the pas¬ 
sage which formerly led to the gallery, an arcaded screen being 
placed where the passage wall was. The chimney-piece, of 
marble, bearing the family arms and Crewe crest, was taken 
from the drawing-room. The books were brought from the 
gallery. In this room, among many other portraits, is one of 
‘Lord Crewe of Steane and Bishop of Durham;’ of ‘Bishop 
Hinchliffe,’ by Hone , 1764; of ‘Master Ofiley,’ by Cornelius 
Jansen. 

The Gallery. —When Lord Crewe began the work of resto¬ 
ration here, and the paper was torn from the walls, the orignal 
panel was found beneath it, but so decayed as not to be fit for 
use. Mr. Blore designed another which leaves room for portraits 
above it. He also added two more fire places, and took away 
the columns, and put the whole room in perfect repair, finish¬ 
ing the window heads with cornices. The room contains many 
family portraits, and some by Sir Peter Lely. We have here the 
original picture, of ‘Sir Ranulphe Crewe,’ 1 by Hollar; of ‘John, 
first Lord Crewe of Steane;’ ‘Sir Thomas Ofiley, Lord Mayor 
of London, 1556;’ wearing his gold chain, gloves in his right 
hand, the left hand resting on a scull; in a corner of the pic¬ 
ture the painter’s name — Petrus Pourbus faciebat, 1566; 
and one of the ‘ Honourable Mrs. Cunliffe Ofiley,’ &c., &c. 

The Ante-room is a little gem, rich with architectural orna¬ 
ments, gilding, and pictures, and a new chimney-piece. The 
paintings are a magnificent Canaletti, ‘The Capitol of Home;’ 
‘The Virgin,’— Guiclo; ‘Sir Thomas Crewe, Kt.,’ very fine; 
‘ Landscape,’— Cuyp; two Vanderneers; ‘ Banditti,’— Bergliem; 
‘Landscape and Water,’— Ruysdael; ‘Heloise,’— Eastlake; and 
others. 

1 Sir John Crewe, of Utkinton, possessed portraits of Sir Ranulphe Crewe and his 
lady, in one painting; and also of Sir Clippesby Crewe and John Crewe (Sir Ranulphe’s 
two sons,) likewise in one painting. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


339 


The Drawing-Boom is one blaze of gold and embellishment. 
It is above the large dining-room, and of the same dimensions, 
except in height, and is richly furnished. It boasts of some 
splendid Sir Joshuas :— Portraits, in one picture, of ‘Mrs. 
Hincliliffe, and her sister EmmaA Portrait of ‘ Lady Crewe 
as a Shepherdess;’ of the same, as ‘ Hebeof the same, toge¬ 
ther with ‘Lady Eobert Spencer,’ rival beauties; of ‘Frances, 
daughter of the first Baron Creweof ‘John, second Baron, in 
the character of Henry VIII.of ‘Kitty Fisher;’ of ‘the first 
Baron Crewe;’ and, also, a picture of ‘ the Scribes and Phari¬ 
sees tempting our Lord.’ 

The Passage, leading to the best bed-rooms, has—‘ A Perse¬ 
cution,’— F. Mola; ‘A Holy Family’; two Panini’s; and ‘A 
Portrait of Lord Leicester’, by Beinagle; and ‘Fruit and Bab¬ 
bits.’ 

The State Bed-Boom deserves the name on every account: 
walls, ceilings, cornices, chimney-piece, furniture, all vie to 
make it uncomfortably splendid. I should almost dread to lay my 
head upon the laced pillows of the bed; happily, my status will 
never give me the opportunity. Crespi has a good picture here, 
and, also, Spagnoletto. 

The Dressing-Boom is in keeping with the bed-room, and 
has a capital ‘Waterfall’, by Dietricy. 

Cain and Abel Boom; so called from the chimney-piece, on 
which is Cain in the act of killing his brother. Here are ‘the 
Portraits of Two Sisters,’ in one picture; and ‘Game,’ by Van 
Aelst. 

The Chintz Boom has a Zuccarelli; very excellent. 

Lord Crewe’s Boom is panelled to the ceiling. The panel 
was, formerly, covered with paper, and the north window was 
closed with lath and plaister; both, happily, are now restored. 
Over the chimney-piece is a picture of a family tea party, com¬ 
posed, I believe, of the following:—(1.) The child with a stick; 
John, first Baron Crewe, of Crewe. (2.) The lady at whose 


340 


BARTHOMLEY. 


knee he stands, liis grandmother, (Sarah Price.) (3.) Her hus¬ 
band—(John Ofiley, afterwards Crewe,)—sits by her. (4.) Their 
eldest son, John—the father of the first Baron of Crewe— 
stands behind his mother. (5.) His wife (Elizabeth Shuttle- 
worth,) stands up, watching, with a mother’s interest, the fro¬ 
lics of her son. (6.) Their eldest daughter, little Sarah 
Crewe,—afterwards the wife of the Bey. Obadiah Lane,—is 
carried into the room by her uncle, (7.) Charles Crewe, who 
married Sarah Burn, and succeeded his eldest brother, John, 
as M.P. for the county of Chester; his eldest daughter, Sarah, 
married R. Glynne, Esq.; his younger, Anne, was wife of John 
Lawton, of Lawton, Esq. (8.) The elder clergyman, is the 
third brother, Joseph Crewe, D.D., Rector of Barthomley and 
Astbury, 1 who married Dorothy Catherine Haywood, 2 who had 
issue John Crewe, of Bolesworth, Esq., whose sole daughter 
and heiress, Anne, married George Evelyn, Viscount Falmouth. 
(9.) The younger clergyman, Randulph, LL.D., was Rector of 
Barthomley and Warmingham. This is the good-man whose 
ghost is said to perambulate the rectory of Barthomley; why, 
I cannot surmise; for it does not appear that he ever resided 
there; he lived and died at Warmingham. 

In the Butler’s Pantry is a portrait of a very deserving 
man—Joseph Bleamire, formerly coachman at Crewe Hall. 
He bequeathed the sum of £60, the interest thereof to be laid 
out weekly in brown bread, to be distributed in the Parish 
Church of Barthomley, every Sunday, to the poor of the town¬ 
ship of Crewe. He was buried at the east end of Barthomley 
cliurcli-yard: his tombstone bears this inscription:— 

“Joseph Bleamire departed this life the 20th of April, 1756, aged 68. 
Having served John Crewe, Esq., and his family as coachman near 43 years, 
with great integrity.” 

1 He was Rector of ‘ Muxton’ in 1742, and till his death. 

2 This lady (who was the daughter of Francis Heywood, Esquire, of Holywell, Oxford,) 
died at her father’s, 26th June, 1740, in childbirth, and was buried in Barthomley Church, 
on the 4th July following. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


341 


I shall not take you into any other rooms, although several 
more are worth inspecting; these we have visited will give you 
the main characteristics of the mansion. 

In 1847 Crewe Hall had the honour to receive as a visitor, 
for several days, that extraordinary man, whose unsuspected 
energy and firmness of character, directed by the highest 
talents, have made him, without dispute, the man of the age 
—Louis Napoleon, Emperor of the French. A few years ago 
he resided in England, visiting, frequently, the houses of the 
country gentlemen, and entering, with the utmost ardour, into 
their sports and amusements. He was often at New Hall, 
near Ashton in the Willows, Lancashire, the seat of Sir John 
Gerard, Bart., whom he accompanied to the neighbouring 
races; and the last time my brother saw him was on Newton 
race-course, playing, with some visitors at New Hall, at the 
plebeian game of “ stick in the hole.” Whether he was as 
successful in shyeing at the boxes on the top of the sticks, 
as he has been in the higher game of taking possession of a 
throne, I cannot tell; but this with truth may be said of him, 
that his amiable and accommodating manners procured him 
many attached friends in this, the then land of his banishment. 
His wonderful career consecrates to history every incident of 
his life, and Crewe Hall may well cherish, in its records, the 
visit there of Napoleon III., Emperor of the French. 

We will now proceed to the Grounds. The approach to the 
house is where it was in the days of Sir Banulphe Crewe; it 
leads you to an elaborately worked iron gate, between two pil¬ 
lars in a screen, surmounted with a pierced balustrade, and 
which encloses a court-yard of some magnitude, against the in¬ 
ner side of which are grassy slopes. The shrubs are removed 
from the front of the stables, which is now fully exhibited, and 
in its centre a new clock-tower is built. One side of the balus- 
traded screen separates this court from the eastern flower gar¬ 
den; formed of walks and flower-beds, cut in patterns suited to 


342 


BARTHOMLEY. 


the date of the house, and from which a long broad terrace 
walk leads you to the pleasure grounds, and rosary, and arbore¬ 
tum. Mr. Nesfield has wonderfully improved this portion of 
the scenery, having cut down trees which once overshadowed, 
and almost touched the house, and leaving others single, or in 
groups, thus giving extent of landscape, and many pretty open¬ 
ings to the Staffordshire hills. On the north side of the house 
is also a garden, enclosed with a balustraded screen, which is 
soon to be taken down, when terrace steps, and a broad terrace 
walk, will be formed to a very handsome boat house : having 
seen the plan, I venture to anticipate the favourable judgment 
which, I think, will be pronounced upon it. Mr. Nesfield has 
also cut down trees on the banks of the lake, and thereby de¬ 
stroyed the monotony of the straight line of wood; and is now 
directing the formation of two roads, which will meet at a new 
oak bridge, designed by Mr. Blore, and will bring you to the 
main approach to the hall. 

The park is not very extensive, about 400 acres, and, on the 
Nantwich, or Cheshire side, is far from being pretty. That 
dull, damp flat, which characterizes your native county, seems 
to begin here, and to extend itself for miles; in fact, leave the 
door of the hall, and travel to Nantwich, or Middlewich, and 
nothing more uninteresting than the space you pass through 
can well be conceived. Much, however, has been done, both 
by Mr. Blore and Mr. Nesfield, to improve the appearance of 
the grounds on the Nantwich side. A new entrance gate, and 
a, new Elizabethan lodge, introduce you to the park, some few 
hundred yards from the Crewe Station': you then pass through 
a wide and newly planted avenue of trees, and a wood of some 
extent, to the hall. The park has been much enlarged on each 
side of the avenue, after the designs of Mr. Nesfield, and has, 
on the south and west borders, a young thriving plantation. 
On the left, after passing through the wood, an opening, lately 
made, enables you to obtain a view of the woods on the other 


BARTHOMLEY. 


343 


side of the lake. This is a vast improvement: formerly, a mass 
of trees obstructed the sight there; hut the eye can now wan¬ 
der to a distance; and well-formed groups of trees, selected with 
great judgment from the mass, deprives the scene of sameness. 

On the other side of the park, towards Staffordshire, the 
ground is more tossed about and broken; and from it are seve¬ 
ral good views of the Staffordshire hills, and the intervening 
valleys. But the grand feature of this portion of the park is 
the lake , which spreads itself at the foot of the gentle eminence 
on which the house is built; it covers about ninety acres, and 
contains a good supply of fish, and particularly of fine well- 
flavoured pike. This is an artificial piece of water, formed by 
two tributary brooks, which flow onwards to the Weaver: its 
bed was formerly an unwholesome, rushy swamp, and famed for 
its snipes, which my father, when a young man, waged bitter 
war against. The lake was made by the direction of the first 
Lord Crewe, and the woods which border on it were planted 
about the same time it was formed. In excavating the soil for the 
lake several cannon halls and musket bullets were found; most 
probably fired at the siege of the hall. The timber is of mo¬ 
dern growth: a few old trees have escaped the woodman’s 
axe, and tell us what their colleagues would he now, if they had 
been left alone; one—an oak in the pleasure grounds—is of 
large dimensions, though not extraordinarily so; there are many 
larger and more entire in the neighbouring park of Comhermere. 

Leaving the park through the Sandbach-gate you come to a 
bridge, provincially pronounced, Slather-hill bridge, which, put 
into proper English, means Slaughter-hill bridge; for tradition 
speaks of a battle here between the Parliamentarians and Roy¬ 
alists, when a terrible carnage took place on the banks just 
above the brook. Neither Burghall nor Partridge speak of the 
conflict, and I conjecture that it was a skirmish between the 
Royalist party, marching from Sandbach to Crewe Hall, and 
some Parliamentarians, who met them on the way. 


344 


BARTHOMLEY. 


Passing over the bridge, and turning into a narrow rural lane, 
on the left, you come to a pretty hamlet, called Crewe Green. 
Here was “the dairy” of Lady Crewe, where she, with her 
maid, sometimes retreated for a little quiet, from the whirl of 
fashionable life, and sometimes to give dejeunes to visitors and 
neighbours. This pretty spot is rendered famous by an im¬ 
promptu of George Canning, which I take from the “ Old Al¬ 
bum.” Mrs. Crewe had a favourite dog, and, dreading the stem 
imperative law of mortality, was anxious, before its sentence 
was executed upon it, to have some soothing epitaph ready— 
for the honour of the dog, and the consolation of her own 
heart. She applied to George Canning, and the great man de¬ 
livered himself of the following, which, with his own hand, he 
inserted in the Album:— 

“ Epitapli upon Mrs. Crewe’s dog Quart, who is to die some time or other, 
and when she dies is to be buried at Mrs. Crewe’s dairy:— 

“ Poor Quart lies buried in the Dairy, 

And is not that a sad Quandary ?” 

This funeral event never came off at the dairy, and it is said 
that Mrs. Crewe was silly enough to be offended with the jeu 
d'esprit; perhaps it was too corrective of the mawkish senti¬ 
mentality, which ladies yield to, in “re doggery .” 1 

Near the dairy, now turned into a residence for the curate, 
is a school-house, built, in 1847, by Hungerford—Lord Crewe, 
who also gives a cottage and garden, and a handsome salary to 
the schoolmaster, Mr. Hough, whose efficiency and attention 
have collected together nearly one hundred scholars. On Sun¬ 
day, October 17th, 1847, this building was opened for public 

1 Sheridan was guilty of a like misdemeanour. Calling on Lady Payne one morn¬ 
ing he found her in tears, which she placed to the account of her monkey, which 
had expired only an hour or two before, and for the loss of which she expressed 
deep regret. “Pray, write me an epitaph for him,” added she, “his name was Ned.” 
Sheridan instantly penned these lines:— 

“Alas! poor Ned 
My Monkey’s dead, 

I had rather by half 

It had been Sir Ralph.”—(her husband.) 

— WraxalVs Posthumous Memoirs. 


BARTIIOMLEY. 


345 


worship, under license of the Bishop of Chester, when the Hec¬ 
tor, in his sermon, to an overflowing congregation, alluded to 
his former friend and curate, the Eev. Arthur Arundel Brown, 
who had taken a deep interest in the erection of the school. 
You remember him well, and his kind and sportive games with 
you; and will not be sorry to have a reminiscence of one whom 
you, and all who knew him, loved. In his sermon the Rector 
stated:— 

“ The Rev. A. A. Browne was, by his earliest profession, a soldier. He was 
an officer in that unfortunate regiment which was almost cut to pieces at 
Cabool. He himself was not in that disaster, but was on leave of absence, 
as an invalid, in England. Here, at the bed-side of a dying brother, he re¬ 
ceived, I believe, those strong convictions which constrained him to leave 
the army, and to enlist, more immediately, under the banner of the great 
captain of our salvation. Unknown to me, except by character, he was led, 
by the providence of God, to be a fellow-labourer with me in this vineyard, 
the first and only scene of his ministry. The qualities of his mind, and his 
acquirements, highly fitted him for the work. To natural talents were added 
much learning, general information, and knowledge of the world; an ardour 
of spirit, moderated by refined and pleasing manners; a charity ever ready to 
benefit soul and body; a deep-rooted piety, guided by a clear acquaintance 
with the Holy Scriptures; and, above all, a heartfelt, active, and happy ex¬ 
perience of their influence.” 

According to the mysterious dispensation of God he was not 
permitted to remain at Crewe Green. For the benefit of his 
wife’s health he went into Devonshire, where he died from an 
attack of typhus fever. His last end was one of peace, and so 
submissive, and so Christian, that I insert an account of it, 
written by a near relative of his:— 

“ The fever took a turn to decided typhus, and that Friday it was most 
alarming. Every door and window in the house were opened that he might 
have a free current of air. On the Monday morning he was wonderfully bet¬ 
ter, and so much so, that Dr. Budd actually had hope; when, in the after¬ 
noon, he was attacked with the most violent hoemorrhage. There he re¬ 
mained, cold as marble, and perfectly unconscious. Dr. Budd left us at 
seven, telling mama to give him brandy every half hour, but without the 
slightest hope of seeing him again. This my dearest mother did all night. 
In the morning he was quite conscious, told us he had no fear, was perfectly 
happy, simply looking to his Redeemer. He continued in the same state 

T 1 


346 


BARTHOMLEY. 


until the evening, when, after having blisters, &c, he became quite warm, 
and then we hoped that the God who had actually, as it were, raised him 
from the dead, would, indeed, quite restore him to us. On the Wednesday 
our dearest Arthur was so much better, every thing of fever so completely 
gone, that Dr. Budd had again a faint hope that he might have strength to 
go through it all. He continued better until Friday night, when he again 
wandered a good deal at times, and was very restless. On Saturday morning 
the hoemorrhage returned inwardly. He was perfectly conscious until about 
two hours before it pleased God to' take him from us. His was, indeed, the 
death-bed of a Christian; calm, peaceful, looking to and resting simply on 
Christ. It seemed as though God had raised him from the dead for a few 
days, to tell us from experience, that death, indeed, had no sting to the 
Christian! 

“When first he was taken very ill, for one night he was very unhappy; 
he examined himself severely; taxed his memory for every fault, even of 
temper, all through his life; and though he could with truth say, for many 
years he had been earnestly striving to follow his Saviour, yet he felt keenly, 
if God should be extreme to mark what was done amiss, who could stand 
before Him? and he felt himself the chief of sinners. But to him, indeed, did 
joy come in the morning! Casting himself simply at the foot of the cross; 
the next evening he said to me, ‘ All is peace now, I have not a doubt or 
fear on my mind;’ and to that day fortnight, when he saw Him he loved so 
well, all was perfect peace. 

“A cousin of his mother, an admirable clergyman, helped to nurse him, 
and he committed him to his last resting-place. There he sleeps by the side 
of a brother he doated on; and there, before long, will his beloved wife be¬ 
laid. There his father, mother, and grandmother, all, too, sleep in Jesus.” 

The event, here foretold, occurred in a few weeks afterwards; 
when his wife followed him to the grave; her enfeebled frame 
could not support her loss. The memory of both still lives, at 
Crewe, dearly cherished by many in the township. 

Proceeding onwards from Crewe Green we arrive at the 
Crewe Station of the London and North Western Hailway, un¬ 
der the management of Mr.—commonly called Captain—Win- 
by, who has many ‘a long yarn to spin, of his adventures at sea, 
and is deservedly respected for his attention and civility. This 
railway has brought prominently into notice objects before bu¬ 
ried in lonely retirement, and given life, activity, and an in¬ 
creased knowledge of civilization to the whole neighbourhood. 


BARTHOMLEY. 


347 


A few years ago, a solitary cottage stood upon the spot where 
the large and well-conducted hotel now receives numbers of 
passing guests of every grade of life, from the Queen of these 
realms to the humble peasant and mechanic. On Saturday, 
30th October, 1848, Mr. Edwards, the landlord of the hotel, 
was surprised by the arrival of two persons, who, having made 
unusual enquiries into the state of the larder, and personally 
inspected it, announced that the Queen of England intended to 
dine there that evening, and remain the night. Accordingly, 
her Majesty and Prince Albert, and some of the royal children, 
and their suite, did come, and left the following morning, Sun¬ 
day, about six o’clock; and, at the usual time, her Majesty ap¬ 
peared at divine service, in the Chapel Royal, London. Her 
condescension and kind considerateness overwhelmed Mr. and 
Mrs. Edwards with dutiful affection; and, as a living memento 
of the distinguished honour conferred upon them and their ho¬ 
tel, a little girl, horn to them shortly after the Queen’s visit, 
was christened, by me, Victoria. 

Near the station, which is in the parish of Barthomley, and 
township of Crewe, is the new town of Crewe, situate in the 
parish of Coppenhall, which name it ought, properly, to hear; 
I have nothing, therefore, to say of it, beyond the circumstance, 
that, twenty years ago or so, the cold clay fields, which are now 
covered with streets and gigantic works, were the danksome 
nursery of rushes and sour grass. 

Two railways pass through the township—the London and 
North Western, aud the North Staffordshire; on the borders of 
this last is an extremely neat and picturesque farm house, oc¬ 
cupied by Mr. Philip Pedley and his sisters. ‘Cleanliness is 
next to godliness ;’ their nicely trimmed gardens, and clean and 
tidily arranged house, are significant of their own well-regulated 
minds. I wish there were more like them in the parish, and 
everywhere. Close to, lives Mr. Robert Oulton, a thorough¬ 
bred English farmer. In his possession is the walking-stick of 


348 


BARTHOMLEY. 


his father, the length of which proclaims that “there were 
giants in those days.” Robert himself partakes of the family 
dimensions, being considerably more than six feet high. Two 
cannon balls were found imbedded in one of the walls of his 
house, which he has carefully preserved; relics, I doubt not, of 
the civil wars. 

And now I come to a conclusion. Reading these letters se¬ 
riatim, they may seem to contain many anachronisms; but, you 
know how to explain this, having received them at different and 
distant periods of time. Little thought I, when I first under¬ 
took to write to you of Barthomley, that my letters would be 
so many and so long. As far as I am concerned, my work has 
been one of love. It has, frequently, beguiled time of its try¬ 
ing moments;—it has given a hallowed pleasure to relaxation 
from the active duties of the ministry;—and shed abroad in my 
heart a joy which it may well call its own —“a stranger inter - 
meddleth with it notT 

The simple, loose and familiar style of these letters, has 
nothing, I trust, for the scrutinizing eye, and severe sentence 
of criticism. 

Accept, Dear Boy, what I have written, as the offering of an 
affectionate father, and not of an ambitious author. 


Mucklestone Rectory , 1855. 


Yours, &c. 

E. Hinchliffe. 


APPENDIX. 


lUtrtljcmlty. 


In my memoir of Sir Robert Fulleshurst it is stated that he 
married Elizabeth Praers after the battle of Poictiers; this 
proves to be incorrect. Long after the foregoing pages were 
printed, Mr. Jones, of Nantwich, forwarded to me the following 
discovery, which arrived too late to enable me to amend what 
was originally written :— 

By an ancient charter, to which the seal of Sir John Griffin, Knt., is ap¬ 
pended, bearing date, the 27th year of the reign of King Edward the Third, 
[1353,] it appears, that the valiant Robert Fulleshurst, one of Lord Audley’s 
Esquires at the battle of Poictiers, had previously married Miss Elizabeth 
Praers, the heiress of Barthomley, whose wife she, consequently, must have 
been three years before that celebrated battle was fought. 

J3y way of appendix to our notice of the Fulleshurst Family , the 
following singular licence may, perhaps, as a relic of a by-gone age, not be 
unworthy of insertion : 

Lord of a Manor's ] “Be it knowne untoe all men, That I Robert Fulles- 
Marriage Licence. J “ hurst of Crue, in the Countye of Chester Esquire do 
“ herebye gyve and grant untoe Wylliam Bykerton of 
“Wystaston in the same Countye Licence that he 
“ shal tak to Wyff Isabelle Dawter of Robert Lee my 
“ Tennant of a Message and Lands in Crue. 
“Witnesses: “ Bated the Syxtenth Bay of March 1576, 

“ Randell Mynshall, “ Signed, Robert Fulleshurst 

Francis Stanway, 

Jas. Lee, 

Thomas Lamport.” 



350 


APPENDIX. 


Barthomley Chapel.— At a very early period, there existed, in Barthomley, 
a chapel, as well as the church, of which chapel, in the reign of King Edward 
the Fourth (1464), Thomas Smytlie was chaplain; Richard Keffes, clerk, 
being then rector of Barthomley. Nearly a century afterwards, 24th Hen. 8. 
(1533), Richard Birches was chaplain of this chapel; Robert Fulleshurst, 
clerk, being Rector at the same time. Its destruction, however, was then 
near at hand, since, within half a century subsequently, it was rased to the 
ground, and a farm tenement erected on or near to its site, which, in the 19th 
of Queen Elizabeth (1569), Robert Fulleshurst, Esquire, then Lord of Crewe 
and Barthomley, leased, for three lives, to John Booth, of the latter place, 
husbandman. 


Barthomley Massacre. —In Vicars’s Parliamentary Chronicle, part two, 
page 129, is a copy of Sir John Byron’s extraordinary letter to the Marquis 
of Newcastle, dated the 26th of December, 1643, wherein Sir John writes 
thus:—“I am now at Sandbich, and have thought fit to acquaint your Ex¬ 
cellency that Brereton [Sir Wm. Brereton,] for the relief of Namptwich, 
“had so prevailed with the Lancashire men as to draw thence 1500 foot.” 
And after some further remarks, Sir John thus proceeds:—“ The rebels had 
“possessed themselves of a church at Bartumley , but wee presently beat them 
“forth of it, and put them all to the sword, which l find to be the best way 
“to proceed with their hind of people, for mercy to them is cruelty.” Lan¬ 
guage, it would seem, the Commander was provoked to use, judging by a letter 
written by him to Colonel Booth, dated the 16th January, .1643, wherein he 
complains of his offers being concealed from the garrison:—“And they told 
“that no mercy was intended, but that both man, woman and child should 
“be put to the sword;” although Colonel Booth, in his answer to Sir John, 
denies the imputation, as “thinking it impossible for gentlemen and soldiers 
so much to forget humanity.” And it might have been added, as in the 
Colonel’s letter—“If you have been informed otherwise, it is erroneous.”— 
See Ormerod, vol. 3, p. 226, The Chetham Society's Historical Remains, vol. 
2, pp. 153-4, and Partridge's History of Nantwich,p. 66. 1 


Undermentioned are the selling prices of cattle, &c., for be¬ 
tween one and two centuries, commencing in the year 1625, at 
and in the neighbourhood of Barthomley:— 


This confirms my view of the Massacre, p. 41.—E.H. 


BARTHOMLEY. 351 


1625. 

£. 

s. d. 


£. 

s. 

d. 

A Wether Sheep, .. .. 


A Heifer,. 

1 

10 

0 

A Flitch of Bacon,.. 


8 0 

A Calf, . 

0 

8 

0 

Wheat per Measure, 

.. 0 

3 8 

1680. 




Rye ditto, 

.. 0 

2 8 

A Nag, . 

4 

0 

0 

Barley ditto, 

.. 0 

2 6 

A Swine,. 

0 12 

6 

Oats ditto, 

.. 0 

2 0 

Wheaten Straw, per Thrave,.. 

0 

0 10 

Pease ditto, .. 

.. 0 

2 8 

1696. 




Malt per Bushel, 

.. 0 

4 0 

A Fat Hog, . 

2 

6 

0 

Oatmeal per Peck, 

.. 0 

1 0 

A Fat Cow, . 

4 

14 

0 

Salt per Barrow, .. .. 

.. 0 

1 8 

1700. 




A Sucking Pig, 

.. 0 

1 0 

A Bull, . 

a in 

0 

A Turkey,. 


1 4 

A Hackney Mare,. 

10 

0 

0 

A Goose, .... 

.. 0 

1 1 

A Fat Hog, . 

1 

4 

o 

A Couple of Ducks, 

.. 0 

0 7 

A Sheep,. 

0 

7 

6 

Ditto Chickens, .. 

.. 0 

0 6 

Wheat per Measure, .. .. 

0 

4 

0 

A Couple of Rabbits, .. 

.. 0 

0 10 

Barley ditto, 

0 

1 10 

A Calf’s Head, .. .. 


0 8 

Beans ditto, .. .. 

0 

2 

6 

A Neat’s Tongue, .. .. 

.. 0 

0 6 

Hay per Ton, . 

1 

4 

0 

A Pound of Butter, .. .. 

.. 0 

0 3 

Malt per Load, .. 

1 

2 

6 

Ale per Qnnrtj.. 

o 

0 2 

Cheese per Cwt., . 

1 

1 

0 

1653. 



Bacon per Pound, . 

0 

0 

2 

A Fat Cow, . 


0 0 

1750. 




A Cow, . 

.. 3 

0 0 

Wheat per Measure, .. .. 

0 

5 

6 

A Heifer, . 


0 0 

Maze Corn ditto, .. .. 

0 

4 

6 

A Cart Mare, . 


0 0 

Barley ditto, .. .. 

0 

3 

0 

A yoke of Oxen, .. 


6 8 

Oats ditto, 

0 

1 

3 

A Gelding, . 


0 0 

Hay per Ton, . 

1 

1 

0 

A Nag . 


0 0 

A Ram Sheep, . 

0 10 

0 

A Fat Cow, . 


— 





CATTLE DISTEMPER. 

The Cattle Distemper which raged so fearfully about the mid¬ 
dle of the last century in England, and called forth the inter¬ 
position of Parliament to provide measures for preventing its 
extension, unfortunately attacked the cattle of the farmers in 
Crewe, Barthomley, and the neighbouring Townships, with great 
violence, for several successive years, as the following short ex¬ 
tracts from a correspondence of that period shews:— 

Extracts. 

1749. The Distemper is very bad in this neighbourhood amongst 
January , cattle. It is at George Alsager’s, of Radway Green; John 
March , Kent’s, George Steele’s, and Samuel Johnson’s, all in Bartliom- 
and April, ley ; and Widow Latham’s, at Elton, likewise. 

The Distemper has been very fatal amongst the cattle at 
Warmingham, almost all having taken it. 

The Distemper amongst cattle still continues very bad. 




































352 


APPENDIX. 


1751 . The Distemper is very had at Latham’s, of Barthomley, who 
March. has already lost upwards of twenty head, young and old. 

The Distemper is very bad amongst the cattle at Haslington 
and Blakenhall, and has again broken out at Elton. 

1752. The Distemper is now very bad at Crewe and in Weston, and 
April. at Weston Hall the tenant has lost a great many of his cattle. 


Lord Chancellor Steele , &c —That unostentatious Judge, in the time of 
the Commonwealth, William Steele, Esquire, successively Recorder of Lon¬ 
don, Chief Baron of the Exchequer, and Lord High Chancellor of Ireland, 
although a native of Sandbach, (where his father, Richard Steele, was a free¬ 
holder and tenant to Sir John Radclyffe, Knight, of Ordsall, in Lancashire, 
the last of that ancient family who owned the manor of Sandbach which 
gentleman, with four of his brothers, Alexander, William, Thomas, and Ed¬ 
ward, were slain in battle, to whose memories there is a monument in Man¬ 
chester Collegiate Church,—which he sold to Sir Ranulphe Crewe, ancestor of 
the present Lord Crewe, in 1613,) was of the same family as the Steeles of Bar¬ 
thomley, for a lengthened period tenants to the Fulleshursts, and afterwards 
to Sir Ranulphe Crewe and his descendants. Lord Chancellor Steele was a 
a freeholder of Weston-juxta-Crewe,—owning a small estate there, called 
Newton’s Tenement, now part of the Crewe estate—and was nephew of the 
unfortunate Captain Steele, governor of Beeston Castle for the Parliament, in 
the time of the Civil Wars; which fortress he was accused of having surren¬ 
dered, without resistance, to the intrepid Captain Sandford, and of having 
regaled that officer and his men in the castle, for which offence Captain 
Steele was tried, found guilty, and suffered death by military execution, not 
far distant from Nantwich church, although he was not, by many, believed 
to have wilfully committed himself in the transaction which cost him his life. 
The Lord Chancellor purchased the Earl of Derby’s sequestered estate, at 
Bidstone, in Cheshire; and is known to have acted with great liberality to¬ 
wards that noble earl’s family in relation to that property. 

The Rev. Richard Steele, of The Clay crofts, in the township of Hasling¬ 
ton, in the parish of Barthomley, (who was born, and whose ancestors had 
dwelt, there, from the reign of King Henry the Seventh,) is believed to 
have sprang from the same stock as the Lord Chancellor and Captain 
Steele. This worthy divine was the founder of Barthomley Free School, 
about the year 1690, which he built at his own expense and partially 
endowed by his will. In the year 1714, John Crewe, of Crewe, Esquiie, 
together with several other charitable and well-disposed persons, in order 
to perpetuate so good a work began by its reverend founder, and for the 
purpose of continuing and keeping up the school, made liberal contribu¬ 
tions, which were added to other funds belonging to the poor of Bar 



APPENDIX. 


353 


thomley, and the aggregate thereof, amounting to .£620, was, in the year 
1722, invested in the purchase of a copyhold estate, situate at Raven’s Lane, 
in the adjoining parish of Audley, in Staffordshire, which estate was vested 
in John Poole, then of Haslington, gentleman, and his heirs, in trust for the 
several objects interested therein. The estate was sold some years ago, and 
the purchase money secured for the benefit of the free school and other cha¬ 
rities. 

William Steele, of Barthomley, a leasehold tenant to Sir Ranulphe Crewe, 
was one of the unfortunate persons slain in the Barthomley church massa¬ 
cre, and he is believed to have been one of the Claycroft Steele family. 

Mr. Joseph Steele, a descendant of the Steele family of Barthomley, now 
resides at Buddilee in Barthomley, on a farm there his freehold property 

(Communicated by Mr. T. W. Jones.) 


RECTORS OF BARTHOMLEY .—(Vide page 43J 


(Communicated 6 y Mr. T. TV. Jones.) 


Rectors. 

1303. Robertus de Chissulle, 

cl’us. 

1465— 8. Richard Keffes.2 

1512. Robert Fulleshurst, 

Clericus. 

1533—60. Robert Fulleshurst, 
Clericus. 


Patron. 

King Edward the First, (when Prince 
of Wales and Earl of Chester ) l 

Sir Robert Fulleshurst, Knight. 

Robert Fulleshurst, Esq., (The Hero 
of Flodden.) 

Thomas Fulleshurst, Esq., (afterwards 
Sir Thomas Fulleshurst, Knight. 


1586 \ Ante. Thomas Elcocke, 3 TheRt. Hon. Sir Christopher Hatton, k g., 

1617 J Clericus. Lord High Chancellor of England. 

1617 \ Richard Fowler. 4 William Fowler. 

1646 J Clericus. 

1.647 £ Zachary Cawdrey. Sir Clippesby Crewe, Knight. 

1685 S 

1 The Prince of Wales and Earl of Chester who presented Robertus 
de Chissulle to the Rectory of Barthomley in 1303, was only the so called first 
Prince of Wales, his father, king Edward the First, having been created by 
his father king Henry the Third, Earl of Chester in 1254, and Prince of 
Wales prior to 1264, in which year Edward the First, Prince of Wales, was 
cajoled out of his vast possessions in Cheshire, Staffordshire, and Derby¬ 
shire, by his ambitious, artful and rapacious uncle Simon de Montfort, Earl 
of Leicester, who prevailed upon the Prince to yield up to lum those ex¬ 
tensive possessions by an agreement dated the 9th of July, in the 49th year 

V 1 




354 


APPENDIX. 


of the reign of his father (1264), followed by an actual surrender thereof, 
dated the 8th of March, 1265. These charters, (a copy of the first of which 
was amongst the MSS. of the distinguished Dr. Adam Clarke, Deputy 
Keeper of the National Records; and of the second, a transcript, in old 
French, is given in Nichols’s History of Leicestershire,) are referred to by 
John Ward, Esqr., in his highly interesting History of the Borough of 
Stoke-upon-Trent, p. 307. It is worthy of notice that after the downfall of 
Simon de Montfort, the possessions he had so unfairly obtained from Prince 
Edward, his nephew, were restored to the latter, who, when King Edward 
the First, in 1284, (being the exact year in which his son Edward of 
Caernarvon was born,) granted a Licence under his Royal Seal to 
Thomas de Praers, empowering him to alienate his Manor of Bertamlegh 
and Crue juxta Haslington with his Advowson of Bertamlegh to John de 
Gryffin, during the life of the said Thomas de Praers, nineteen years subse¬ 
quently to the date of which grant, his son Edward, Second Prince of 
Wales, presented Robert de Cliissulle to the living of Barthomley. 

2 From a very careful examination of the MSS. containing a notice of 
this Rector, it clearly appears his surname was “Keffes,’ and the former 
Rector, called “ Keffer,” probably was his grandfather. 

3 Thomas Elcocke was son of Nicholas Elcocke of London, cloth worker, 
and Sir Christopher Hatton was the Patron whom he abused, as noticed in 
page 44. 

4 As Sir Ranulphe Crewe was owner of Barthomley Advowson when 
Richard Fowler, (whom he looked upon as crafty,) was presented to the 
living, it may be presumed William Fowler, his Patron, was a relative of 
his, and had acquired the right to present thereto from the Hatton family. 


The following extracts from several ancient manuscripts, 
shew the habits, &c. of the middle and lower classes in the 
neighbourhood of Barthomley, at a somewhat early period:— 

1623 to 1630.—“George the Nayler, alias Smith, of Audley parish, was 
presented at the Court of Sir Ranulphe Crewe, Lord of the Manors of Bar¬ 
thomley, and Crewe, for shooting with a gunne, and poivleringe i after and 
kyllinge fowle, in Monneley Mere, and fined each for such offence, Is.” 

“ George Whitgreave, Robert Broe, and William Kelsall, all of Audley, 
were presented for coursing with grayhoundes, and fined each Is. 6d.” 

“Richard Olton (son of Robert Olton de Crue,) and William Olton, his 
brother, were presented for powleringe in the Lords’ running water, and 
each fined each Is.” 

i No doubt a local pronunciation of the word “prowlering.” 



APPENDIX. 


355 


“Alexander Daneporte, of Crewe, William Brereton and Lawrence 
Green, of Wibunburie, and William Robison, of Wisterson, were presented 
for angling in tbe Brake, 1 and each fined Is.” 

“ Randall Hassall was presented for keeping in his house Cicely Rou- 
bottom, as an inmate, and for so doing fined 13s. 4d.” 

“ Ralph Massie, Rumball Durbar, James Ley, and Thomas Cowper were 
severally prosecuted for harboringe of roges and begars in their houses, in 
Barthomley, and each fined 3s. 4d.” 

“Thomas Boothe, butcher, was presented for killing calves under age, 
and fined Is.” 

“ Thomas Meakin (the younger) was presented for not doeing his worke 
in Barthomley highwayes, and fined Is. 6d.” 

“ Robert Corke, John Hemberrie, and Richard Woodworth were prosecuted 
for breaking the assize of ale and bread, and each fined 6d.” 

“William Simmons, Nicholas Preston, and John Sharpies were pre¬ 
sented for making a fray on Thomas Scott, and drawing bloode, and each 
fined 3s. 4d.” 

“It was presented that Thomas Olton, of Crewe, being found a Felo de 
se, and dying possessed of goods and chattels worth 25s., the Crowner 2 who 
sat on the inquest took 13s. out of that sum for his fees, and the remaining 
12s. was paid to the use of the Lord of the Manor.” 

«The Town was presented for not having a Crow Net, and given till 
Christmas to provide one on pain of paying a fine of 3s. 4d.” 

“The ancient Footwaye between Bawterley Green and Barthomley 
Church being sadlie out of repaire, was presented and ordered to be putte 
in repaire before the nexte Miklemas, or the Towne fined 13s. 4d.” 

“James Whitney, of Barthomley, having found within that libertie an 
ancient gould coyne , (the value whereof was not knowne,) it was ordered to 
be delivered to the Lorde of the Manor for his owne use.” 

The practice of pilfering clothes hung out, on hedges, in Barthomley, 
to dry, obliged their owners to employ female tenders to protect them whilst 
drying, for which service each tender was paid twopence per day. 

l Brook. s Coroner. 


( Communicated by Mr. T. W. Jones.) 




§alierifjr. 


It is with no little regret that I insert the announcement of 
the death of Mr. Toilet, whose account of the water-fowl of 
Betley pool, and the formation of the heronry on its banks, 
must have interested and delighted my readers. This event 
occurred on Christmas-day, 1855, and is thus recorded in the 
Staffordshire Advertiser :— 

“On the 25th instant, at Betley Hall, in this county, George Toilet, Esq., 
in his 89th year. During the greater part of his long and useful life Mr. 
Toilet had been in the commission of the peace for this county, having 
qualified at the Michaelmas Sessions, 1809, and was well-known as an active, 
intelligent, and impartial Justice of the Peace, though, during the last few 
years, he had been compelled by the infirmities of age to retire from public 
duties, and seek repose and retirement in private life. In politics he was 
a Whig of the old school. His manners were those of the * old English gen¬ 
tleman,’ kind and frank, and he was highly esteemed by all who knew him, 
both rich and poor.” 

To this I may add that at the time of Her present Majesty’s 
coronation, a Baronetcy was offered to Mr. Toilet, by Lord 
Melbourne, who remarked, to a mutual friend, that Mr. Toilet 
had ever been such a staunch and consistent supporter of the 
cause, during a long period of discouragement, that his services 
ought to have some recognition now that the party had attained 
an ascendency; this offer, so honourable to Lord Melbourne, 
was, however, respectfully declined. It should be stated, also, 
that on more than one occasion, Mr. Toilet was earnestly in¬ 
vited to enter Parliament. 

Mr. Toilet was a contemporary, in his legal studies, with the 
late Sir John Yaughan, a Judge of the Court of Common 
Pleas, and likewise of that most learned real property lawyer, 
the late James Humphreys, Esq., whose projected reforms in 
that branch of our laws, (some of which have been adopted by 
the legislature since his death,) were warmly supported by Mr. 


APPENDIX. 


357 


Toilet, who was on terms of intimacy with both those learned 
personages. Mr. Toilet, on being called to the bar in Trinity 
Term, 1792, made choice of the Oxford Circuit; he was chosen 
Recorder of the Borough of Newcastle-under-Lyme in the same 
year, which office he held for some years, and was succeeded 
therein (1800) by the late James Caldwell, Esq., of Linley 
Wood. __ 

The following epitaph to Elizabeth Toilet (noticed in page 
189) is in the chancel of the church of Westham, in Essex. 

MRS. ELIZABETH TOLLET, 

DAUGHTER OF GEORGE TOLLET, ESQUIRE, 

FIRST COMMISSIONER OF THE NAVY IN THE REIGN 
OF QUEEN ANN, DIED FEBRUARY 1ST, 1754, 

AGED 60. 

AND IS BURIED BENEATH THIS MARBLE. 

RELIGION, JUSTICE, & BENEVOLENCE APPEARED IN ALL HER 
ACTIONS, AND HER POEMS IN VARI0U3 LANGUAGES ARE 
ADORNED WITH THE MOST EXTENSIVE LEARNING, APPLIED 
TO THE BEST OF PURPOSES. 


WOOD FAMILY, page 167. 

The genealogy of Dr. Thomas Wood , Bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, 
does not connect that learned and charitable prelate with the Balterley fami¬ 
ly of the same name, the Bishop having been horn at Hackney, in Middle, 
sex, and resided there, in privacy, some years prior to his death, which event 
took place at Astrup Wells, co. Northampton, on the 18th of April, 1692, 
at the advanced age of eighty-five, and his remains were buried in a vault 
at Ufford church, in Suffolk, with others of his family .—Vide Shaw's History 
of Staffordshire, vol. 1, 'page 276. 


Kelsall Family, of Audley and Hall o-Wood.—James Kelsall, the Audley 
Patriarch, married two wives:— Firstly, Agnes, widow of Bichard Smythe, 
by whom he had not any issue; and, secondly, Joan Shorte. In his will,, 
dated the 6th of April, 1583, (in which year he is said to have died,) he de¬ 
scribes himself as a tanner and “ somewhat siche in bodie, but notwithstand¬ 
ing very aged and weahe: and directs his bodie to be buryed in the parish 
1 To which Andrew Beech, 2 clerk, is one of the attesting witnesses. 

2 Father-in-law of his son William, vicar of Audley. 






358 


APPENDIX. 


church yorde of Audley, nere to John Blore, of Hollens, or els nere to the 
box 1 trees, and then provides for his wife Joan, during her life, or widow¬ 
hood and, subject to such provision, he bequeaths his property to his two 
sons , (so that he did not leave a large family, as stated by Lysons,) William, 
[who became Yicar of Audley after his father’s decease, so describing himself 
in a release, given to his mother, dated 12th August, 1595,] and John. The 
Kelsall lineage, from the Patriarch’s eldest son to the latter end of the seven¬ 
teenth century, seems to be correctly traced in the genealogy of that family, 
given in page 169, from which time Kelsall muniments and wills disclose 
the following pedigree of the family, which may, therefore, be relied upon 
for accuracy:— 


KELSALL PEDIGREE. 


1705. 


William Kelsall—Margaret, daughter of John Cradock, of Halmer 
of Hall-o-Wood, End, in Audley, Gentleman,—[ancestor of Sir 
Gentleman. Thomas F. F. Boughey, Bart.] 


Richard Kelsall,—Hannah, daughter of John Machin, of Botteslow, 
of Halmer End, | in the county of Stafford, Gentleman,—-[ancestor 

Clerk. J of Smith Child, Esq.] 


William Kelsall, Thomas Kelsall,;—Jane Spencer. 

of Hall-o-Wood, 
ob. unmarried, 1786. 


William Kelsall,—Elizabeth Spencer, Elizabeth,—William Tait, 

of Shuckbro’, and his cousin-german. from whom de¬ 
afterwards of Hall- scended William 

o-Wood. O. S. P. 1802, Kelsall Tait, 

Gentleman, who 
sold Hall-o-Wood. 


From John Kelsall, the youngest son of James Kelsall, the very aged 
common ancestor of the Audley family of that name, there sprang numerous 
Kelsalls, who located themselvas at Gnosall, and in other parts of Stafford¬ 
shire. A branch of this family migrated from thence to Hassall, in Cheshire, 
and subsequently to the city of Nottingham; which branch, after acquiring 
considerable wealth in trade there, became extinct in the male line, up¬ 
wards of half a century ago. 

1 It is possible the testator might have meant yew trees, so common in church¬ 
yards. 










(fete. 


The comparative obscurity into which the Cheshire branches 
of the Crewe family had fallen, after the marriage of Elizabeth 
Praers to Sir Robert Fulleshurst, appears not to have extended 
itself over all the members of the family. Some of these left 
their native county, and settled in other parts of England, from 
one of whom came Thomas de Crewe, who attained to no little 
dignity as a ‘Knight of the Shire’ in which he lived; filling, 
also, other offices usually conferred on men of station in their 
own counties. 

The Rev. T. P. Boultbee, formerly Fellow of St. John’s Col¬ 
lege, Cambridge, and now the Theological Tutor of the Pro¬ 
prietary College, Cheltenham, has written, for the Camden So¬ 
ciety, an interesting notice of him, from which, by his kind 
permission, I shall subjoin some lengthened extracts. His 
account of Thomas de Crewe was suggested by a brass, on 
which are the figures of Thomas de Crewe and his wife; an 
engraving of these will be found in No. V. of the “ Illustrations 
of Monumental Brasses,” where also, at page 155, is the fol¬ 
lowing :— 

“The accompanying engraving is taken from a brass in the parish church 
of St. Milburga, at Wixford, a small village on the river Arrow, about three 
miles from its junction with the Warwickshire Avon. The church consists 
of a chancel, nave, and chapel forming a south aisle, dedicated to St. John 
Baptist. The latter was built by Thomas Crewe, and contains his tomb, 
which is a raised slab of grey marble, nine feet by four; into which the brass 
effigies of himself and wife, about five feet in height, are inlaid. The manor 
of Wixford, at the end of the 14th century, belonged to the Clopton family. 
Thomas de Crewe had only a life interest in the property in right of his wife 
Juliana, whom Dugdale supposes to have been widow of John de Clopton, 
the preceding owner.* 

1 By an ancient manuscript it appears that in the sixth year of the reign of 
Henry the 5th, (the year in which Thomas de Crewe died,) he held the manor of 


360 


APPENDIX. 


“ Thomas de Crewe appeal's to have sprung from the ancient family of 
Crewe in Cheshire, although I am not able to identify him with any indivi¬ 
dual of that race. There were then many flourishing branches of them, and 
Thomas was a common name amongst them. His connexion is clearly evi¬ 
denced by the second and third shields at the head of the tomb, both of 
which, in Dugdale’s time, bore a lion rampant; the only remains of which 
are now the claws, teeth, and tongue. The arms of Lord Crewe, of Crewe, 
are still azure a lion rampant argent. Dugdale also must have considered 
him to be of that family, 1 since the plate in his great work on the Antiquities 
of Warwickshire, representing this tomb, and various shields which then ex¬ 
isted in the east window of the chapel, was presented by John Crewe, of Ut¬ 
kin ton, Cheshire. 

“ I have not been able to discover Juliana de Crewe’s family name, as 
there are no means of ascertaining the tinctures of the coat impaled with 
Crewe at the head of the tomb. Bromley, of Badington, in Cheshire, bore 
quarterly per fesse indented gules and or; also, Acton, of Acton, Gloucester¬ 
shire, bore the same with the tinctures argent and azure, to either of which 
families she might have belonged; but such conjectures are useless, as there 
may be many similar shields with different colours. 

“ The tomb was clearly erected at the time of Juliana’s death, and during 
the life-time of Thomas de Crewe, as the date of her death is complete, whilst 
that of Thomas was left blank, and the requisite numerals were never added, 

“The following brief description of the armour on the monument may 
not be unacceptable to some readers:—On his head is a basinet, of the coni¬ 
cal form of the period, with an opening for the face; the gorget is of plate, 
and not of mail, the camail or mail tippet having become generally disused 
about the reign of Henry the Fifth. Oval palettes, with a cross of St. 
George, protect the shoulder joints. The arm and hand are defended by 
brassarts, elbow pieces, vambraces, and cuffed gauntlets: the brassarts show 
the buckles which fastened them. The cuirass is somewhat globose, and is 
continued by a skirt of taces or overlapping plates. Then come, in succession, 
cuisses, genouillieres, jambs, and sollerets, all of plate, as the defence of the 

Ashley, in the County of Stafford, in right of his wife Juliana, mother of Sir 
William de Clop ton, knight, which confirms Dugdale’s conjecture here stated. 
Dugdale in his Cheshire Visitation in 1663, was received as a guest of Sir John 
Crewe, of Utkinton Hall .—Communicated by Mr. T. W. Jones . 

1 It is very probable he took his descent from the branch of the Crewe family 
located at Crewe juxta Holt, in Farndon, since his sister Elizabeth was Prioress of 
Chester, and the Royalty of Crewe juxta Holt till the dissolution of monasteries, 
belonged to the Abbot and Convent of Chester, when it vested in the Crown, and 
subsequently passed into the family of Crewe juxta Holt .—Information of Mr. T. 
W. Jones. 


APPENDIX. 


361 


lower members. The baldrick, or sword belt, seems to have been accidentally 
omitted, so that the sword and misericord have no support. 

“ The lady’s costume consists of a long gown, covering the feet, and made 
to fit the shape. The sleeves are tight, worked at the seam, with long cuffs 
over the hand: over this is a mantle, held together at the throat by tasselled 
cords. Her hair is gathered into an embroidered net, over which the man¬ 
tilla falls in graceful folds. 

“ The earliest notice of Thomas de Crewe states that in the second year of 
Henry the Fourth, he was attorney 1 2 to Margaret, widow of Thomas Beau¬ 
champ, Earl of Warwick; she died in 1406, 3 and was buried with her hus¬ 
band in Warwick church. Margaret Beauchamp 3 was a daughter of Lord 
Ferrers, of Groby; it was, therefore, doubtless, in honour of her, that the 
arms of Ferrers of Groby, (viz., gules seven mascles conjunct three three and 
one or,) were placed in the east window of the chapel at Wixford. In the 
sixth year of Henry the Fourth, Thomas de Crewe 4 sat as knight of the shire 
in the Parliament held at Coventry. The king’s object in calling this Parlia¬ 
ment was, of course, to get supplies for his expensive wars. According to 
Walshingham, 5 whose account Stowe translates almost verbatim,—“ The 
King sent his mandate to the Sheriffs, that they should return no knight or 
burgess who had any knowledge of the laws of the realm, by reason whereof 
it was called the Layman’s Parliament.” It met at Coventry on the 6th of 
October, 1404, in a great chamber within the Priory of Coventry. 6 The 
Chancellor, in presence of the King, Lords, and Commons, opened Parlia¬ 
ment with a speech to the following purport:—He began with a declaration 
of the King’s determination to support Holy church in all her liberties and 
franchises, as held and used in the time of his predecessors. After a similar 
declaration with respect to the Lords spiritual and temporal, the Cities and 
Burghs; the Chancellor proceeded to state the King’s wish to consult with 
the ‘ wise men’ of his realm, on the danger arising from the rebellion in 
Wales, and the war with France and Bretagne. The Commons having 
elected William Sturmy Speaker, proceeded to deliberate: they granted the 
King two-fifteenths, and two ‘dismes,’ besides taxes on several commodi¬ 
ties; they, however, required it to be paid into the hands of Thomas de Fur- 
nyvall and John Pelham, who were appointed to see the supplies, bona fide, 
expended for warlike purposes. Having thus provided for the defence of the 
realm, they examined the state of the King’s revenue, and found that great 
part of the ancient inheritance of the crown had been scandalously alienated. 

1 Dugd. Antiq. Warw. ex Eot. Pat. 2, Hen. IV. 

2 Dugd. Baronage, p. 238. 

s Ibid. 

4 Dugd. Antiq. Warw. ex Eot. Claus. 6 Henry IV. 

5 Walshingham, p. 371, Ed. 1603, Stowe’s Annales, au. 1404. 

6 Rolls of Parliament, 6 Henry IV. 

W 1 



APPENDIX. 


363 


The remedy adopted was a severe one: all grants and letters patent since the 
fortieth year of Edward the Third were called in, to he confirmed or disal¬ 
lowed by the council, according to the apparent deserts of the original re¬ 
ceiver of the grant. After a variety of other business had been transacted, 
the Parliament was dissolved by the Chancellor. 

“ The above sketch of the proceedings of the Commons House at Coven¬ 
try is extracted from the Rolls of Parliament. Walshingham, whom other 
authors have followed, states, that before they granted the subsidies men¬ 
tioned above, they endeavoured to induce the King to supply his wants out 
of the lands and temporalities of the clergy. They affirmed, that they spent 
their goods and hazarded their lives lor the King, ‘ whilst the clerks sat idle 
at home, and helped the King never a whit.’ To this Thomas Arundell, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, answered, that the clergy oftener granted tenths 
than the laity fifteenths, and that more of their tenants than of the laity 
served in the wars; and beside this, that they prayed day and night for tho 

King, and all who faithfully served him... 

In the following year, the seventh of Henry the Fourth, Thomas de 
Crewe 1 was a Commissioner for enquiry into the King’s debts, which, I 
imagine, must have been connected with the recall of the letters patent men¬ 
tioned in the account above. In the eighth year 3 of Henry the Fourth he 
was justice of the peace for the shire. To this office 3 he added the Shrievalty 
of Warwickshire and Leicestershire in the first year .of Henry the Fifth. 
In 1415 he was Steward4 and of the council to Richard Beauchamp, Earl of 
Warwick, which connexion is commemorated by the first coat at the head of 
the tomb, viz., quarterly, first and fourth, gules a fess between six cross cros- 
lets or; second and third, cheeky azure argent, a chevron ermine. The 
Beauchamps originally (in 1298) bore the field seme of cross croslets, which 
afterwards degenerated into six. The fourth shield, which has now disap¬ 
peared from the head of the tomb, bore a cross of St. George in Dugdale’s 
time. In the Cotton library there is a very curious M.S., containing the life 
of Richard Beauchamp, illustrated by fifty-three delineations, by John Rous, 
who died in 1493. These have been engraved by Strutt, 5 in his “ Manners 
and Customs,” and represent the chief incidents in the life of a warrior re- 

mo wned above the rest of his race, prolific as it was in great men. 

His connection with the brave Earl of Warwick is the last circumstance I 
find recorded of Thomas de Crewe. By his Testament, 6 hearing date 5 Sep. 
1418, he bequeathed his body to be buried at Wixford, ‘givingto certain 
Priests, to celebrate divine service for the health of his soul, a hundred 
marks; as also to poor people, to pray for his soul, the like sum; constituting 

1 Dugd. Atitiq. Warw. Ex Rot. Fiu. 7 Hen. IV. 2 Ibid, Ex Rot. Pat. 

3 Ibid. Ex Rot. Fin 4 Ibid. 3 Strutt’s Manners and Customs, vol 3. 


6 Dugd. Antiq. Warw., p, 623. 




APPENDIX. 


363 


Elizabeth, his sister, then Prioress at Chester, (to whom he also gave a 
hundred marks,) together with Will. Clopton, and Joane his wife, his execu¬ 
tors. Thomas de Crewe 1 departed this life in the same year.’. 


THE FAMILY NAME, “ CREWE.” 

In Sir John Crewe’s “Crewe Pedigree," which bears evident marks of his 
correction, the surname of Henry de Criwa, the first Crewe therein named, 
is spelt “Criwa!' In the Cheshire Domesday (a book peculiar to that 
County Palatine, which was formerly preserved amongst the Records of the 
Exchequer, at Chester, but is said by historians to have been lost,) the name 
Crewe was written “ Creu.” And in ancient charters, and post mortem inqui¬ 
sitions, it was afterwards spelt sometimes “Crue,” and at others “ Cruwe,” the 
latter orthography being adopted in an old grant, sans date, (but identified 
in point of time with the third year of King Edward the Second (1309), 
through Robert de Holand, who was Justice of Chester in that year, being, 
together with Robert de Bulkyley and Hugh de Venables, witnesses thereto,) 
from Sir Ralph de Vernon to Thomas, son of Patrick de “Cruwe” of a mes¬ 
suage and lands, situate in Hurdleston, (now Hurleston), in the county of 
Chester; which Patrick de Cruwe (son of Sir Thomas,) in the 31st year of 
the first Edward’s reign (1303) had engraven about the Lyon of his seal— 
“ Sigillum Patrichii de Cruwe.” 


The following inedited interesting letter, 2 from Lady Elizabeth 
Hatton (see page 220)—[grand-daughter of Queen Elizabeth’s 
High Treasurer, Lord Burleigh, widow of Sir William Hatton, 
alias Newport, Lord Chancellor Hatton’s nephew and heir, and 
second wife of Sir Edward Coke, 3 ]—to Sir Ranulphe Crewe, 
one of Sir Edward’s executors, on the subject of his affairs, 
may, perhaps, be considered not unworthy of insertion:— 

“ My Lord Crew,—It pleased God, I hope, to call to his mercye my 
Lord Coke, by w ch he hath made so discreet a choyse of his Executo rs - 4 I 
conceave all things may be ended w th out any suyte in law, & seeing I heare 
his sonnes have made choyse of my Lord Keeper on their syde, so am I 

1 Dugd. Antiq. Warw. ex Rot. Claus. 6 Hen. V. 

2 (Carefully examined with the original, in the possession of Mr. T. W. Jones ) 

3 Sir Edward Coke died 3rd Sept., 1634*. 

4 Sir Edward Coke’s Executors were Lord Keeper Coventry, Sir Ranulphe 
Crewe, and Sir John Walter, Chief Baron of the Exchequer. 





304 


APPENDIX. 


confident that I may make choyse of you on my syde. Seeing both sydes 
desire but their right. I am further confident that you will tak into yor con¬ 
sideration, what 1 was when S r Edw. Coke married me:—my birth, my for¬ 
tune, my youth, & not forgett my sufferinges; and doe conceave that I 
might then have poynted to the best man in the Kingdome, & not have 
binne neglected; and 1 doe now presume there is no pious nature, or a 
Gent, that will not comiserate my case when they shall see it declared, and 
had this retired tyme of myne admitted me to have gone abrode w th out cen¬ 
sure, I would have attended you w 1 * 1 my declaration; but seeing this tyme 
must be observed, I will beg w h yo r lo: after once meeting w h my Lord 
Keeper, you will make a charitable visitt to a poore widow, and so yo u shall 
oblidgc, 

“ Yo r auncient frend, 

“ Hatton-howse, “ Eliza Hatton. 

“Sept: 16: 

j “To The right ho: w my 
Lord Crew.” 


Sir Ranulphe Crewe .—After Sir Ranulphe Crewe ceased to hold his high 
office of Chief Justice, he lived in retirement at his town house, near Westmin¬ 
ster Abbey, but often visited his noble mansion Crewe Hall; and whilst stay¬ 
ing there, when far advanced in years, was accustomed to take much eques¬ 
trian exercise, over his Crewe and Barthomley demesnes, on his piebald 
gelding , accompanied by his two sons, Sir Clippesby and John, on their gray 
and bay nags. Sir Ranulphe frequently paid visits to the neighbouring 
gentry, amongst whom were Sir Thomas Smith, Sir Richard Lea, Sir 
Richard Wilbraham, and Sir Randle Mainwaring, at those once fine, but 
long since decayed seats, called Hough and Lea, in Wybunbury, and 
Woodhey and Baddeley, in Acton; where he was welcomed by his hosts, 
and, according to the fashion of the age, attended by retinues of chamber¬ 
lains, grooms in waiting, ushers of the hall, and their several deputies. 
Although Sir Ranulphe kept 1 sumptuous tables, he was himself contented 
with very plain fare. His generosity to the poor was most extensive; and 
the higher classes, when in adversity, likewise shared his bounty, often re¬ 
ceiving from him very liberal pecuniary presents. As a consummate law¬ 
yer he strenuously advocated reforms in the laws, and had he fortunately 
retained his judicial seat a few years, it cannot be doubted, his great 
learning, judgment, and experience, would have placed upon our statute 
books, more than two centuries ago, legal reforms which had suggested 
themselves to his capacious mind, some of which have only received the 

1 Fuller, in his Worthies, notices Sir Ranulphe’s hospitable manner of living. 




APPENDIX. 


365 


sanction of the legislature within these last few years. And he was not 
only a reformer of our laws, hut a great improver of our forensic eloquence, 
having introduced a much finer style of oratory than had previously pre¬ 
vailed in our courts of justice, an example of which is to he met with in the 
eloquent exordium of his speech as Chief Justice, in the Earl of Oxford’s 
memorable peerage case, noticed in page 226. Although Sir Ranulphe, in 
the course of his long and arduous professional life, had been engaged in 
much legal warfare, he was a most ardent lover of peace, as the extracts 
which follow, from his manuscripts, in addition to his letter to Sir Richard 
Browne, given in page 237, clearly shew: 

1643. “ May God of his abundant mercye and goodnesse unite the Hart 
of the Kyng & his People, and grant us Peace:” 

“ I am aged, and would he glad to he at Peace with God and man, and 
to spend the remainder of my tyme in those Meditations and Actions which 
point at Eternitye and another Life!' 


Sir John Crewe, of Utkinton. —This gentleman descended from Sir Ran¬ 
ulphe Crewe, being the only son of the Chief Justice’s youngest son John, by 
Mary, second daughter of Sir John Done, of Utkinton, knight, and Dame 
Mary, his wife, eldest daughter of Thomas Wilbraham, Esq., of Woodhey, 
the lady who left such a notable character behind her at her death. 

Sir John Crewe inherited large estates in Cheshire, as well from his pater¬ 
nal as his maternal ancestors, and, delighting in a country life, spent the 
greatest part of his time at Utkinton Hall, which had been the seat of the 
Done family for many centuries. In 1617, King James the First, in one of 
his royal progresses, honoured Sir John Crewe’s maternal grandfather, Mr. 
(afterwards Sir John) Done, with a visit at this ancient mansion, and after 
being most hospitably entertained there, and enjoying the sport of stag 
hunting in Delamere Forest—(of which Mr. Done was hereditary chief 
forester, or bow-bearer, holding that honourable office by the tenure of an 
ancient bugle-horn, believed to be still extant,) his Majesty was pleased to 
confer on his host the honour of knighthood, an honour which several 
of his ancestors had borne; to one of whom, John Done, Esquire, King 
Richard the Second, with six other Cheshire martial esquires, confided the 
command of two thousand archers, for the especial protection of his royal 
person. 

Sir John Crewe often received visitors of distinction at Utkinton, one of 
which visits is thus noticed in Bishop Cartwright’s Diary, page 28:— 

‘1687, 24th January. I went from Col. Whitley’s to dine with Sir 
John Crewe; where dined Sir Thomas Stephens et uxor, Sir Fr. Norrices 
sister, Major Done’s daughter, Sir Michael Biddulph, Sir John Arderne, Sir 
Thomas Bellot, Col. Whitley, Mr. Mainwaring, Mr. Sherwood, Mr. Hanmer, 



36G 


APPENDIX. 


Vicar of Waburham, (Waverham,) Mr. Clapton, Mr. Dean, Mr. Vart, Mr.' 
Colley, Dr. Foley, Alderman Mainwaring, Alderman Street, Mr. Minshull, 
and Mr. Callis.” 

Sir John Crewe was a staunch friend to the Constitution both in Church 
and State, and an unflinching advocate of the Great Revolution of 1688: 
and, being learned himself, greatly encouraged learning, and learned men. 
He revered the memory of his excellent grandfather, Sir Ranulphe,—[who 
familiarly called him, in childhood, his “Jolly Jack,”iJ—and being charita¬ 
ble to the poor, and following the laudable example of his paternal great 
uncle, Sir Thomas Crewe, he settled a handsome perpetual rent-charge, pay¬ 
able out of a portion of his Cheshire estates, in favour of the poor of the 
Hospital-street, in the town of Nantwich, wherein Sir Ranulphe and Sir 
Thomas were bom. 

Although the Hall of Utkinton had, for many ages, been the seat of the 
Done and Crewe families, it was doomed, (like many other ancient man¬ 
sions,) to be reduced to the condition of a plain farm house, within little 
more than half a century after the death of Sir John Crewe, when the beau¬ 
tiful painted glass, which adorned its windows, was removed from thence to 
Vale Royal, where the same still remains; and that portion of the mansion, 
used as a chapel, which the learned, charitable, and pious Bishop Bridgeman 
had consecrated in 1635, (who likewise, in the same year, consecrated the 
chapel in Crewe Hall, built by Sir Ranulphe Crewe,) was converted into, 
and is now used as a “cheese room.” 

Sir John Crewe married twice; firstly, to Mary, daughter of Thomas 
Wagstaffe, Esq., of Tachbrooke, in the county of Warwick, a lady highly 
distinguished for her piety and charity, from an early branch of which fami¬ 
ly descended the present Lord Bagot, and likewise John Offley, Esq., only 
son of Sir John Offley, of Madeley Manor; and secondly, to Mary, daughter 
of Sir Willoughby Aston, of Aston, in the county of Chester, Bart., by 
Mary, only daughter of the before-named John Offley, Esq, by neither of 
which ladies had Sir John Crewe any issue. And dying in the year 1711, 
at the good old age of 71, his remains were interred in the chancel of Tar- 
porley church, where are his recumbent effigies in white marble, on a large 
altar mural tomb, his hands being clasped and uplifted towards heaven, 
with a long inscription to his memory. 

A portrait, in oil, of this worthy Knight, by that eminent Scotch Artist, 
Michael Wright, (who painted the likenesses of the Judges and several dis¬ 
tinguished Counsel, in the time of King Charles the Second, after the great 
fire of London, which now grace the walls of guild hall, in that city,) still 
exists. 

1 He was a port ygentleman, as his portrait bespeaks. 



APPENDIX. 


3G7 


NOTE ON THE SUBSTITUTION OF THE NAME OF CREWE 
FOR THAT OF OFFLEY. 

The ancient family name of Crewe , which, by the alliance of 
Anne Crewe, the Heiress of that House, with John Offley, Esq., 
had become merged in the latter name, was revived early in 
the eighteenth century, at the instance of Sir John Crewe, of 
Utkinton, Knight, as shewn by the extract which follows, from 
a settlement, executed by that gentleman, of extensive estates 
in Cheshire, in favour of his kinsmen, John Offley, and Crewe 
Offley, Esquires, sons of the Heiress of Crewe. The settle¬ 
ment before noticed recites that the principal motive which 
induced Sir John to execute the same was:— 

_ - “ For the honor which he had and bore unto his Grand- 

Extract from 

Settlement. “father, Sir Ranulphe Crewe, some time of Crewe, in the 
“ County of Chester, Knight, deceased, and to the end that the 
“name of Crewe in remembrance of the said Sir Ranulphe 
“ Crewe, might he still continued, if it should so please Al- 
“ mighty God.” 

And to entitle the two Offleys, and their male descendants, 
to enjoy the settled estates, they were by a clause in the 
settlement expressly required, “ To use and take upon them- 
“ selves the name of Crewe for their sole and only surname, 
“ and also to use and hear the Arms of Crewe, namely: 

“IN A FIELD AZURE, A LYON 

“ rampant Argent. 

« And to place quarter and set the same in the best place on 
“the dexter point of their shield or escutcheon. 

The following letter, written by Mr. John Offley, (shortly 
after he had changed his name), to Sir John Crewe, may not be 
thought an inappropriate addendum to the extract before given: 


(Copy of Letter.) 

«<gj r> April 5th, 1709. 

“ As I shall always endeavour to follow the Will and design of 
my Grandfather, so I certainly ought for his great generosity to my 


368 


APPENDIX. 


“ Mother J who as well as myself can’t but be mightily pleased with the Bill 
“ for changing my name to one so agreeable and honourable as Crewe. 

“I am, Sir, 

“ Your most humble Servant, 

Sir John Crewe, “ J. Crewe.” 

Utkinton, 

by Tarporley, Cheshire. 


It should not be passed over without notice, that Sir Ranulphe 
Crewe, his son, John Crewe, of Utkinton, Esquire, (who was a 
decided patron of the Arts,) his grandson, Sir John Crewe, 
knight, of the same place, and also his grandson, Ranulphe 
Crewe, Esquire, (youngest son of Sir Clippesby Crewe, knight, 
who was most unfortunately assassinated in France, in the year 
1656, at the youthful age of twenty-five,) severally devoted 
themselves to Archaeological pursuits. Sir Ranulphe combining, 
with his profound knowledge of the laws, superior skill in ar¬ 
chitecture, of which the magnificent mansion, called Crewe 
Hall, erected under his eye, furnishes the most ample evidence. 
This learned Chief Justice was the preserver, at Crewe, of a 
Transcript of Smith’s Valuable Cheshire Collection, which 
formed the basis of King’s Vale Royal of England; and to his 
grandson, the before-named Ranulphe Crewe, the credit is due 
of having promoted the publication of that work.— Communi¬ 
cated by Mr. T. W. Jones. 


The longevity of the Crewe family, alluded to in page 303, may be further 
illustrated by glancing at the ages of Sir Ranulphe Crewe, his brother, 
Sir Thomas, and their sisters, Mrs. Southerne and Miss Prudence Crewe, 
all of whom were living in the year 1633, and severally aged 75, 68, 80, 
and 7L, making a total of 294 years. 

1 This lady (the Heiress of Crewe,) lived two years after the change of name 
had taken place, and by her Will bequeathed a handsome Legacy to Nantwich 
Charity School. 




APPENDIX. 


369 


HUNGERFORD, page 323. 

The ancient and distinguished family of Hungerford, from whom sprang 
Sir Thomas Hungerford, knight of the shire for the county of Wilts, and 
who was the first recorded Speaker of the House of Commons, A.D. 1377, 
was long seated in that county, and resided in great splendour at their 
mansion, called Farleigh Castle, for many generations, and in the church of 
Farleigh exist several very interesting tombs to their memories. 


FORTESQUE. 

Sir John Fortescue'8 progenitors were long seated at Winster, in the 
county of Devon, and passing over a valiant race of knightly ancestors, 
traced his lineal descent from Sir John Fortescue, the great martial com¬ 
mander who lived in the reign of King Henry the fifth, and was the father 
of Sir Henry Fortescue, Chief Justice of Ireland in the time of King Henry 
the sixth; and, also, of that profoundly learned lawyer, Sir John Fortescue, 
Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, and Lord High Chancellor of England 
in the same king’s reign, author of that celebrated treatise, “ Be Laudibus 
Legem Anglice ,” expressly written for that monarch’s unfortunate son, Prince 
Edward. The first above named Sir John Fortescue was so eminently skilled 
in Greek and Latin, that Queen Elizabeth selected him to direct her in her 
studies of those learned languages. And so highly did her majesty hold Sir 
John in her royal esteem for his honesty, that, on her accession to the 
throne, she chose him one of her Privy Council, placing the greatest reliance 
on his integrity. He also filled the important state offices of Master of 
the Queen’s Wardrobe, Chancellor of her Exchequer and Duchy of Lancas¬ 
ter; and it was thought King James the First, with whom he likewise stood 
very high in favour, and who paid him a royal visit, at his house at Hen¬ 
don, would have created him a peer of the realm, though he died plain “Sir 
John” in 1607. 


CREWE PEDIGREE. 

In tlie body of this work a pedigree of the Crewe family, 
without its collateral branches, has been given; a more full and 
complete pedigree, down to the present day, is inserted, taken, 
for the most part, from Ormerod’s History of Cheshire. 






370 


APPENDIX. 


The Author has now one grateful duty to perform, viz :— 
to thank all those gentlemen who have kindly assisted him in 
his work. To Mr. Jones of Nantwich, whose acquaintance 
with the antiquities of Cheshire gives to his contributions an 
authority of no little weight, he is especially indebted; and 
also to Mr. Frederick Crewe, the publisher of these letters, 
whose family, the author has reason to believe, is the only re¬ 
maining branch of the real old Crewes of Crewe, the present 
possessor of Crewe being an Offley, under an assumed name. 
Whilst this work was in the press, illness prevented the author 
from giving more than a very slight attention to it; happily, 
a critical revision of it was undertaken, con amove , by Mr. F. 
Crewe, whose care and research have rendered it more accurate, 
and obtained for it much additional information. 


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INDEX 


Abbeyfield, 34. 

Abbot of Westminster, 33. 

Acton, 9, 40, 41, 61, 133. 

-John, 107. 

-Park, 320. 

Adams, Dr. Fitzlierbert, 286. 

Affleck, Admiral, 80. 

Agriculture, 128, 203, 305. 
Agricultural Meetings, 190. 

Album at Crewe-Hall, 311, 344. 

All Souls’ Eve, 143. 

Alms House, 259. 

Alsager, 3. 

Alston, 287. 

Alumni West., 58. 

Amersham, 260. 

Andrew, Sir Robert, 44. 

Anecdote, Pine Apples, 89. 
Anglo-Saxon Saint, 20. 

Anne, Queen, 283. 

Anti-Jacobin, 316. 

Appleton, 30, 73. 

Apology for the Heron, 210. 

Arden, Pepper, 312. 

Arminians, 57. 

Armitstead, Rev. J., 133. 

Arran, Countess of, 258, 287. 
Archdeacon’s Visitation, 144. 

Asbury, M. 105. 

Ashburnham, Earl of, 287. 

Ashley Manor, 360. 

Aston, 219, 301, 336, 367. 

Auckland, Lord, 68. 

-- Hospital, 286—8. 

Audley, 3, 156, 203, 357. 

-Lord, 9,176. 

-Pedigree, 174. 

-Cross, 16. 

Audley’s, Lord, Esquires, 10,18, 349. 
Aylesbury, 245. 

Ayres, Dr. 271. 

Aytoun, 19. 

Bacon, Sir Francis, 225. 

Bacon, Lord, 253. 

Baillie, Joanna, 307. 


Baker, George, 260. 

Balterley, 3, 152, 155, 203, 204, 350, 

-Green, 164. 

-School, 155. 

-Hall, 172. 

Bamborough, 286, 289. 

Bath and Wells, Bp. of, 278,225. 
Barlow, T. W., 108. 

Barons, 6, 267. 

Barratt, Robert, 104. 

Barthomley, 3, 6, 40,103, 305, 340, 350. 

-Church, 20, 29. 

-Chapel, 350. 

-Registers, 108. 

-Massacre, 40, 41, 350, 353. 

-Clerk, 104. 

-Mill, 128. 

-Scenery, 123. 

-Village, 124. 

-Rectory, or Hall, 8, 126, 

-Customs, 141. 

-Races, 144. 

---Games, 146. 

-Wakes, 148, Clubs, 149. 

■ Natural History, 151, 204, 


Barton Lodge, 302. 

Basset, Thomas, lord, 7. 

-, Philippa, 216. 

Baswick, 29. 

Baynton, Sir F., 301. 

Bear baiting, 149. 

Beauvoir family, 67. 
Bebbington, 127. 

Beech, 169, 357. 

Bedford, Duke of, 190. 
Belasyse, Sir Henry, 284, 
Belfrey Rhymes, 38. 
Belgrave, Lord, 92. 

Bells, 38. 

Benefactions, 111, 114. 
Bernard, 272, 

Bertolme, St., I 20,21, 149. 
Bettehn, St., 1 
Bertram, St., 21. 

Betley Hall, 188. 

-Pool, 205. 






























INDEX. 


Betley Window, 193. 

-Mill, 205. 

Billcliffe, 50. 

Blackburne, Mrs. T. 308. 

Blandford, Dr. 275. 

Bleamire, Joseph, 114, 340. 
Blencowe, 175, 260. 

Blore, Mr. 331, 333, 338, 342. 

Blore Heath, 15,16. 

Blount, 166,173. 

Bois-l’eveque, 323. 

Book of Sports, 262. 

Boscawen, Admiral, 68. 

Bossuet, 66. 

Boothe, 169. 

Bouchier, Abp. 286. 

Boughey, Sir T. F. F., 115, 358. 
Boulogne, 176. 

Boultbee, Rev. T. P., 359. 

Bourne, 126. 

Bourne, Richard, 157. 

Bover, 34, 69, 76, 79, 92, 308. 
Bover’s, Capt, Evidence, 68-72. 
Bowles, 289, 295, 307. 

Boycott, Miss, 318. 

Boyles Hall, 169. 

Brackley, 175, 222, 254, 259, 293. 
Bradeley, or Bradley, 34, 91. 
Bradshaw, W., 120. 

-Hall, 168. 

Bramston, 262. 

-Sir John, 251,265,279. 

Brasses, 34. 

Bray, of Steane, 253. 

Bray, Sir Edward, (Madeley), 298. 
Brenton, Capt., 83 
Brewer’s Hall, 74. 

Bridgeman, Bp., 335. 

British Museum, 224. 

Broome, Dr. William, 107. 
Broughton, Sir H. D., 10, 160. 
Broughton, 300. 

Browne, Sir R., 237. 

Browne, Sir M. 298. 

-Rev. A. A., 124,345. 

--John, 257. 

Brunswick, Elector of, 284. 
Buckingham, Duke of, 230, 232, 251. 
Buddi-lee, 202. 

Buglawton, 259. 

Burghall, 40, 42,324. 

Burke, Edmund, 304, 307. 

Burnet, 278, 280—1, 282,284. 
Burney, Dr. C., 318. 

Bury Assizes, 229. 


Bute, Earl, 287. 

Butler, Lady Eleanor, 308. 

Butler, Samuel, 106. 

Butterton, R., 299. 

Byng, Admiral, 69, 72. 

Byron’s, Lord, Troop, 40,350. 

Byron, Lucy, 297. 

Caldwell, James 357. 

Caine, 323. 

Cambridge, 302. 

Cameron, Rev. R. C., 334. 

Camperdown, 87. 

Campbell, Thomas, 124. 

Campbell, Lord, 223, 226, 230, 238, 240. 
Canaletti, 53, 338. 

Canning, George, 315, 344. 

Capgrave, 21. 

Cargoose, 206. 

Carlton-House, 306. 

Catholic Emancipation, 305. 

Cattle Distemper, 351. 

Cartwright, 260, 287. 

Caul, (The Offley,) 300. 

Cavalier Party, 265. 

Cawdrey, Zac., 31, 44, 104, 114. 

Celt, 131. 

Charles the First, 41, 227, 249, 260-2, 265. 

-Second, 274,278. 

Cheese-making, 131, 132. 

Cheshire Proverbs, 18. 

Chester, 3, 76. 

-, Courant, 133. 

-, Bishop of, 134. 

-, Earldom of, 4, 6, 7, 353. 

Chichester, Dean of, 274. 

Child, Smith, M.P„ 155, 169. 

Child, Smith, 169. 

China, 323. 

Chaucer, 48,197. 

Chauncy, Sir Wm., 297. 

Cholmondeley, Charles, 336. 

Church Minshull Register, 242. 

Church Government, 263. 

Chute, Mr. 254. 

Christmas Plays, 141. 

Church Coppenhall, 3. 

Churchwardens, 106, 111, 144. 

Church, The, 20, 29. 

Clare, Earl of, 229, 235. 

Clarendon, Earl of, 189, 263, 265. 

Clayton, Colonel, 61. 

Clemonds, Elizabeth, 299. 

Clerk of Barthomley, 105. 

Clerke, Sir 1\, 304. 













INDEX. 


Clippesby, 239. 

Clopton, 3G0. 

Clubs, 149. 

Coal-Drawiug, 47. 

Coke, Sir Edward, 220, 229, 240, 300,364. 
Coke, Mr., 190, 306. 

Cole, Sir C., 80, 87. 

Coleridge, Hartley, 60. 

Colpoys, Sir J., 81,. 

Combe, 285. 

Combermere Abbey, 7, 318. 

Communion Plate, 114. 

Connought, 40, 41, 42. 

Coppenball, 347. 

Corke, Robert, 105. 

Coronation Festivity, 121. 

Cornwallis, Admiral, 80. 

Cosin, Bp. of Durham, 275—7, 288. 

Cotton, Misses, 318. 

-, Sir C., 87. 

Couplet, 165, 220, 243, 299, 307, 344. 

Crabbe, 307. 

Cradock, 190, 358. 

Cranfield, Sir Lionel, 225. 

Cressy, (or Creci,) 10. 

Crewe Township, 3, 216. 

-, Sir Ranulphe, 19, 36, 220, 229, 230, 

300, 303, 324, 327, 330, 337-8, 364-8. 

-, Thomas de, 8, 172, 219,359. 

-, Lucretia and Prudence, 221,368. 

-, Thomas, 221, 242 253, 271. 

-Offley, 336. 

-, Bp. of Durham, 254, 257, 260, 271, 

294. 

-, Sir John, 301, 302 338, 365, 367-8. 

-, Sir Clippesby, 296, 297, 338. 

-, Sir John Plarpur, 270, 287. 

-, Amicia, 219, 324. 

--, John, 241,301,338. 

-, John, 221, 297. 

-, Charles, 47. [281. 

-, John, (Baron of Steane,) 260,277, 

-, Henrietta, 323. 

-, Amicia Henrietta, 324. 

-, Randulph, 296—7. 

-, Frances Anne, Lady, 115, 306, 320. 

-, John, Bolesworth, 178. 

- John, (Baron, of Crewe,) 36, 37, 53, 

54, 149, 302-5, 320-1. 

-, John, (2d Baron, of Crewe,) 36,323. 

-, Hungerford, (3rd Baron, of Crewe,) 

37, 115, 129,149, 311, 323, 338, 344. 

-■, Jemimah, 277. 

.-Pedigree, 219, 241, 336, 363, 369. 

-Chancel, 32. 


Crewe, Hall, 40, 238, 303, 323-4, 333 

-Library, The, 338. 

-Park, 342. 

-Lake, 343. 

-Green, 315, 344-5. 

-School House, 344. 

■- Railway Station, 342, 346. 

Criwa, 216, 218,363. 

Crofts, Dr., 282. 

Croke, 228. 

Cromwell, 238,262-3. 

Cross-bill, The, 152. 

Cumberland, Richard, 57. 

Cunliffe, Foster, 127,320, 

Curfew, 39. 

Customs, 141, 354. 

Dairy, The, 344. 

Damme, Thomas, 104. 

Darlington, John, 121. 

Darlaston, Walsall, 299. 

Darnel, Sir Thomas, 228. 

D’Arblay, Madame, 59, 306. 

Delamere, Lord, 45. 

Delves, Sir John, 10. 

De Mara, 217. 

Devereux, Sir Walter, 340. 

D’Este, 275. 

Devonshire, Duke of, 54. 

Devonshire, Duchess of, 306, 

Dicconson, 88. 

Dillon, Elizabeth, 299. 

Docking the Colt, 145. 

Dodd, Dr. W., 177. 

Doddington, 10. 

Doddlespool, 35, 203. 

Dolben, Dr., 285. 

Domesday Survey, 3, 316. 

Done, 365-6. 

Douce, Mr., 189, 202. 

Drury, D., 229. 

Drayton, Michael, 141. 

Drunkenness, 48, 137. 

Dugdale, 219, 336,360. 

Duncan, Admiral, 87. 

Duneombe, Rev. E., 102. 

_ } Mrs. Edward, and Miss F., 332. 

-, T. S., 61. 

Dungannon, Lady, 306. 

Dunham Massie, 6. 

Durham, Bishop of, 254, 257, 288. 

-'-- Hospital, 286—8. 

--, Gentry and Clergy of, 284, 292. 

__ t Lord Lieutenant of, 277, 284 

Dutton, Sir Thomas, 10. 


/ 











































INDEX. 


East Haddon, 253. 

Eaton-Hall, 92,102. 

Echard, 227, 239,280. 

Edgecote, 297. 

Edlaston, 9. 

Edward, Prince of Wales, 44, 353. 

-the Black Prince, 10,14. 

-the Third, 9,10,17. 

Edwards, Mr. and Mrs., 347. 

Egerton, Sir John, 175,205. 

Elcocke, Sir Thomas, 44,353. 

Elizabeth, Queen, 18, 34, 149, 197, 238. 
Elizabethan Houses, 9, 117,125, 156, 325, 
Ellis, W., 273. [331. 

Ely, Bp. of, 278. 

Emblematical Figure, 334, 337. 

Embury, Charles, 190, 357. 

Epilogue, 100. 

Epitaphs, 126, 253, 255,257, 344, 357. 
Erdeswicke, Sampson, 29,155. 

Erskine, Lord, 314. 

Evelyn, John, 189,278,296. 

Fairfax, 237, 238,262. 

Falkland, Lord, 263. 

Farmer, Anthony, 280. 

Farthingoe, 294. 

Fawcett, 308. 

Felton, quoted, 49. 

Fenton, Elijah, 109. 

Feversham, Lord, 61. 

Firmstone, T„ 203. 

Finch, Lord Keeper, 276. 

Fisher, Capt., 325. 

Fitz-Norman, 218. 

Fleming, 83. 

Fletcher, 175. 

Flodden, Battle of, 19. 

Foley, Sir Robert, 51. 

Forfeited Estates, 287. 

Ford, John, 34.—Ford, Thomas, 176. 
Forster, 257, 283,287. 

Fortesque, 369. 

Fosset, 302. 

Fox, Charles James, 54, 303, 304, 310. 
Foxe’s Book of Martyrs, 105,114. 

Fowler, 41, 42, 353. 

France, J. J,, 133. 

Ffrance, T. W., 215. 

Francis, Alban, 279. 

French Refugees, 61, 76, 118. 

Froissart, 10. 

Froude, 283.—Frowde, 287, 297. 

Fuller, Thomas, 229, 235,239,297. 

Fuller, Nicholas, 300. 


Fulleshurst, 8, 9, 10,17,18, 19,32, 38, 103, 
222, 297, 349, 353. 

Fusey, Edward, 239. 

Gallery, The, 368. 

Games, 146. 

Gardner, Sir Allan, 82. 

Garrick, David, 301. 

Garratt, G., 129. 

Gatton, 249. 

Gawsworth, 302. 

Gentleman’s Magazine, 58, 79, 91,109. 
George the First, 284. 

Georgian Era, 56. 

Gerard, Sir John, 341. 

Gherbod, 4. 

Gibson, W. S., 282, 289. 

Giffard, Wm„ 92,101. 

Gloucester, Duke of, 55. 

Glover, J., 172. 

Godwin, Wm., 10,15. 

Goodfellow, Thomas, 169. 

Gorge, 37,297. 

Gosport, 84. 

Gower, Lord, 302. 

-, Dr. H., 44. 

Grafton, Duke of, 54. 

Granville, G. B., 51. 

Grappenhall Church, 77, 88, 91. 

Greenwich, Vicar of, 54. 

Grosvenor, Earl, 62. 

Gray, Thomas, 1. 

Greville, 303, 307, 313, 321, 333. 

Grey, Dr. Richard, 257, 293—5. 

Guthlac, (or Guthlake) St., 21, 23. 

Guttit Tuesday, 40. 

Guernsey, 67. 

Gunning, Misses, 91. 

Hadfield, Rev. W., 166, 172. 

Hall o-wood, 165-6. 

Halton, 6. 

Halcyon Days, 171. 

Halmer-end, 168. 

Hanover, House of, 287. 

Harley, Robert, 188. 

Llarpur, Sir John, 270, 287. 

Hatherton, 259. 

-, Lord, 333. 

Haslington, 3, 34, 107. 

Hastings, Lady Anne, 336. 

Hatton, Lady Elizabeth, 220, 364. 

-, Sir Christopher, 18, 353. 

Hawarden, 217. 

Hawkstone, Sir John, 










INDEX. 


Hawser Trunnion, 73. 

Heddington, 7. 

Heiress of Crewe, 30, 37, 297, 30J, 330, 348, 
Heleigh Castle, 170. [307-8. 

Henrietta Maria, Queen, 249. 

Heron, 200. 

Heronry, 15, 200. 

Herbert, Chief Justice, 279. 

Herrick, Robert, 253,295-0. 

Hesketh, Miss, 308. 

Heylin,Dr., 272. 

Heywood, Francis, 340. 

Higgins, —, 77. 

Hill, John, 108. 

Hinchliffe, 30, 30, 50, 61,92,304, 311, 318. 

-, H. J., 60, 61,127. 

Hinton, 253. r 

Hoare, Admiral, 73. 

Hood, Dr. P., 273. 

Hodgson, 35, 2U3. 

Holbeck, 259, 

Holdenby, 265. 

Holies, Denzil, 235,261, 

Hollins, 156. 

Holt, 219. 

Hoppner, 88. 

Hospital Street, 242, 259. 

Hotel, The, (Crewe,) 347. 

Hough, M., 344. 

Household Words, 76. 

Hudson’s Bay Company, 190. 

Hugh Lupus, 4,217, 123. 

-de Auranges, 4. 

Huguenots, 61. 

Hungerford, 323,369. 

Hutchinson, W., 276, 290. 

Hyde, Edward, 263. 

-, Sir Nicholas, 229. 

Incumbents, (Church of Rome) 32. 
Independents, The, 265,273. 
Inglesey-brook, 158, 163. 

Ireland, 79, Accountant General of, 188. 
Irish Parliament, 245. 

Isle of Wight, 255. 

Jamaica, 87. 

James the First, 243, 248, 299,366. 

-the Second, 278,280-1. 

Jenny, 300. 

Johnson, Dr., 301. 

--, Samuel, 279. 

Jolliffe, 191. 

Jones, Inigo, 104, 324. 

-, Rev. W., 56. 


Jones, Justice, 245. 

-, T. W., 32, 44, 104, 107, 108, 220, 359, 

324, 348 to 370. 

Juiges, Impeachment of the, 262. 

Kelsall, 35, 168-9. 

Kent, Duke of, 254, 270, 287. 

Ken, Bp. 278. 

Kennett, 281, 292. 

Kenright, 74. 

Kilmorey, Viscount, 302, 335. 

Kincote, 293. 

Kinderton, 6. 

Kingston, Duke of, 287. 

Lambeth Chapel, 55,278. 

Landon, Dr., 108. 

Landecan in Wyrrhall, 8. 

Latham, Richard, 107,121, 123. 

Lawrence, Sir Thomas, 307. 

Lawton, 3, 30,166. Lawton, C. B., 168. 
Leeds, 50. 

Lees, Thomas, 203. 

Legend of Sh Bettelin, 21. 

Legends, 28. 

Leicester, Earl of, 190, 306. 

Lent Preacher, 283. 

Levett, John, 301. 

Leycester, Sir P., 3, 5. 

Ley, Sir James, 226, 229. 

Library, The, 338. 

Lich-Gates, 150. 

Lifting, 145. 

Lightfoot, Samuel, 157. 

Lincoln, Bp. of, 224. 

-, Earl of, 297. 

-, College, 272, 285—6. 

Lincoln’s Inn, 222, 243. 

Lloyd, Dr. Philip, 295. 

Lloyd, E., 133. 

Local Records, (Newcastle,) 75. 

London, Bp. of, 279. 

Longevity, 125, 202,204, 242, 260, 303, 368 
Lort, Dr. M., 55. 

Louis XIV, 62. 

Ludlow, Edmund, 267. 

Lunt, R., 103. 

Luttrell, 321. 

Lyon, Thomas, 74. 

Lysons, 155, 168. 

MacAdam, 130. 

Macartney, Lord, 54 314,323. 

Macauley, T. B., 244,250. 

Mackintosh, Sir James, 279. 

Madeley, 157, 298, 301, 320, 322, 332. 









INDEX. 


Madeley Manor, 228, 300, 320, 332, 
Mainwaring, H., 221. 

-, Alice, 221. 

Malbank, 3, 6, 7, 34, 216, 218. 

Malbedeng, 6 
Malbon, 34, 35, 74. 

Malpas, Robert of, 5, 6. 

Manley, John, 108. 

Mangey, Dr., 292. 

Manneley Mere, 116, 151. 

Manning, J. A., 243. 

Mara, De, 217, 218. 

Maria, The Infanta, 243. 

Margaret, Queen, 16. 

Marriage Licence, 849. 

Marlers, 130. 

Martin, E. H., 129. 

Martyrdom, &c., 45. 

Marsham, 304. 

Marseilles, 67. 

Masterson, 44. 

Meatb, Bp. of, 319. 

Mechi, 203. 

Mellor, Robert, 270. 

Mescbines, Randle, 5. 

Middlesex, Earl of, 225. 

Milnes, Ricliard Monckton, M.P., 324, 332. 
Minorca, 68. 

Mock Play, 142. 

Molanus, 20. 

Modena, Princess of, 275-6. 

Mold, 217. 

Monk, General, 266. 

Monmouth, Duke of, 277. 

Montague, 287. 

--, Sir Edward, 266,287. 

-, Serjt., 225. 

-, Bp. Bath and Wells, 225. 

Montalt, 6, 217, 218. 

Moore, Thomas, 107, 307, 321. 

Morley, Bp., 273. 

Morris Dance, 193. 

Motto “ Quid lletribuam Domino 326. 
Mucklestone, 16, 303. 

Musical Talent, 120. 

Music at Oxford, 273. 

Mutiny at Portsmouth, &c., 81 

Nairn, Colonel, 90. 

Nalson, 262. 

Nantes, Edict of, 65. 

Nantwich, 3, 6, 9, 40, 220,221,242, 144,259- 

-, Baron of, 34, 74, 

Napier, George, 313. 

Napoleon, 18, 39, 341, 


National Peace, Treaty for, 265. 

Natural History, 151. 

Nechells, John, 299. 

Nesfield, Mr., 331, 342. 

Newbold Verdon, 282, 286-7. 

Newcastle under Lyme, 35, 105, 117, 301. 
209, 357,398. 

Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 265. 

Newman, J. H., 21. 

Newton, Sir Isaac, 189. 

Nichols, 44, 55, 109, 189, 260, 354. 
Noailles, Duke de, 65. 

North, Lord, 304. 

Northampton, 222, 243. 

Northwich, 305. 

Norton, Dr., 285. 

Nosegay, The, 260. 

Nore, Mutiny of the, 69. 

Notes and Queries, 45, 226, 307. 

Oaklianger Hall, 107-8. 

Oates, Elizabeth, 189. 

Ode to Indifference, 313. 

Offley, 36, 37, 47, 297, 299, 367. 

-, Foster Cunliffe, 127. 

-, John Crewe, 336. 

-, Walter, 47. 

-, Mrs. Cunliffe, 320, 322. 

Old Robin Gray, 321. 

Opie, 88. 

Orange, Prince of, 290. 

Oration, 226. 

Ordericus, 4, 

Organ, presented, 115. 

Ormerod, 5, 34, 74, 130, 141, 216, 218,230, 
232, 241, 336, 369. 

Ormonde, Duke of, 275. 

Oulton, Robert, 347. 

Oulton Park, 77. 

Oxford, Earl of, 188, 227. 

-, 272, 280, 285, 300. 

-, Bp. of, 275. 

Paintings, 53, 88, 338, 367. 

Palmer, Jeffrey, 263. 

Palmerston, Lord, 314. 

Pai'ish Book, 107,114. 

Parish Registers, 103. 

-Clerks, 105. 

Parker, Sir Peter, 78. 

Parliament, Defence of, 264. 

-, Commissioners, 264- 

Parrot, Mr., 168. 

Partridge, 343, 350. 

Patron Saint, 21. 

Patronage, 44, 
















INDEX. 


Paynter, W., 188. 

Peachey, Dr., 279. 

Peat Mosses, 131. 

Peake, Samuel and Walter, 169. 
Peerages, Spiritual and Temporal, 282. 
Pecham, Edmund, 225. 

Pedley, Mr., 150, 347. 

Pelisson, 63. 

Penlington, 158, 161. 

Pennant, T., 217, 221. 

Pennington, 262. 

Pepys, S., 189, 266-9. 

Peterborough, Bishop of, 55, 280. 

-Tortoise, 60. 

Petition of Bight, 251. 

Petre, Father, 280. 

Pierpoint, 265. 

Pitt, William, 303-4. 

Plague, The, 300. 

Plays, 94, 141, 308. 

Plot, Dr. 20, 197, 298. 

Poaching, 159, 164. 

Poictiers, 10. 

Ponsonby, Miss. 308. 

Pope’s Nuncio, 279, 281. 

Pope Alexander, 109. 

Popery, 33, 40. 

Portrait, A., 309. 

Poultney, Sir John, 296. 

Praers, 7, 8, 17, 219,297,349. 

Prall’s Superstition, 150. 

Presbyterians, The, 265. 

Pretender, The Young, 88, 90. 
Prerogatives, 244. 

Price, Sarah, 37, 302. 

Prices of Cattle, &c., 350. 

Primitive Methodist, 159. 

Prison-Bars, 146. 

Private Theatricals, 90, 94, 307. 
Privileges, 244, 251. 

Products, 129. 

Protestants, Conversion of, 63. 
Pulcroft, 219. 

Punch, 18. 

Puritans, 33, 41. 

Badway Green, 125. 

Badstone, 175. 

Bailways, 116, 347. 

Basbotham, D.,203, 

Bavens Lane Estate, 112, 115. 
Bawcliffe Hall, 215. 

Beading, 300. 

Bectors, 32, 42, 43, 102, J19, 350, 353. 
Bectorv, The, 8, 30, 126, 


Beformer, 304. 

Bestoration of the Monarchy, 265, 266, 274 
Bevolution of 1688, 281, 287. 

Beynolds, Sir Joshua, 307, 320. 

Bich, Sir N. 245. 

Bichmond, 239. 

Bingers’ Buies, 38. 

Biver Wulvarn, 124. 

Boads, 130. 

Boherts, George, 225. 

Bochester, Bp. of, 280. 

Bogers, Samuel, 321. 

Boman Catholic Bectors, 33. 

Borne, Church of, 33, 62, 276. 

Bosehud, The, 109. 

Bothelent, Bobert of, 5. 

Bowley, 204. 

Bowlison, Thomas, 203. 

Boyds, Bev. C. S., 188. 

Butland, Duke of, 287, 

Sacheverell, Dr., 284. 

Salt, Wm, 168. 

Salt Box, 92,102, 

Salt Duty, 305, 

Salisbury, Bp. of, 282. 

Sandbach, 3, 

, Sandford, 276. 

Sandys, Sir Edwin, 225, 

; Sandwich, Earl of, 266, 275, 287, 289. 
Scarisbrick, C., 88. 

School House, 128. 

-Festival, 137, 

Schools, 140. 

School for Scandal, 307, 

Scottish Covenanters, 277. 

Selden, 245. 

. Seneca, 141. 

Shaw, Brian, 31, 

Shakenhuvst, 191. 

Shakspere, 16,190, 193. 

Sheridan, B, B, 309, 321, 344, 

Sheridan, Mrs., 306. 

Shipbrooke, 6, 216. 

Ship-Money, 227. 

Shorte, 169. 

Shrove Tuesday, 40, 

Shuttleworth, B., 302. 

Simms, Lieut., 82, 

Singular Bequest, 300. 

Skelhorn, W., 16. 

Skrymsher, C, B„ 16, 

Smith, 5. 

-, Thomas and John, 105, 

-, Sir Thomas, 259., 









INDEX. 


Smith, Joseph and Matty, 117, 
Smollett, 73, 280. 

Sneyd, Colonel, 40. 

Social and Domestic Life, 135, 

Song, The Heir of Crewe, 145. 

-, All-Souls’ eve, 143. 

Spencer, William, 307. 

Spencer, 35, 254,358. 

Spitbead, 82. 

Sotheby, 307, 321. 

Souling, 143, 

Sound, 219. 

Southerne, John, 221, 

Spanish Match, 245, 

Squire’s Story, The, 76. 

Staffordshire Advertiser, 122, 136, 178. 
Stafford, Patron of, 21. 

-—, 299. 

Statuary, 336. 

Steane, 253-4,272, 286. 

Steele, 202,204,352. 

Sthell, Peter, 273. 

Stockton Lodge, 74, 88, 90. 
Stockbridge, 302. 

Stockport, 6, 

Storr, Rev, F„ 133, 

Strafford, Lord, 263, 

Stringer, Daniel, 41, 116, 128, 130, 
Strutt, 48, 146, 148. 

Stuart Dynasty, 88, 274, 287. 
Superstition, 150. 

Supping, 134. 

Surtees, 7, 274,276. 

Suysken, 20. 


Tait, 203,358. 

Talbot, Bp„ 292, 

Tanfield, Sir C., 225. 

Tanner’s Son, The, 220, 223, 286. 
Tarvin, 168. 

Taunton, 323. 

-Assizes, 225, 

Taylor, Arthur, 278. 

Tears of the Salt-Box, 101. 

Teddesley, 333. 

Temple Bar, 272. 

Terence, 272. 

Test Act, 48, 304. 

Texel, 85. 

Theatricals, 90, 94, 307. 

Thickens, or Thicknesse, 172, 174, 177. 
293, 294. 

Thicknesse, Ralph, 178, 293. 
Thistleworth, 296. 


Thornhill, 131, 283. 

Tippet-grebe, 206. 

Toilet, 168,188-9,190, 204, 305, 333, 356. 

-, Miss E., 332, 

Toilet, Elizabeth, 189, 357. 

-Window, 193. 

Tollernache, John, 133. 

Tomkinson, 133,203. 

Tories, 304, 

Torture, 225. 

Touchet, 15,174. 

Tower, The, 188, 280. 

Townshend, 287. 

Townships, Five, 3, 

Town-house, The, 8, 

Tumor, 36, 37, 297. 

-, Thomas, 108. 

Turner, John, 281. 

-, Mark, 83. 

Twemlow, F., 156, 178, 187. 

Twyford, 285. 

Tynte, 283, 


Utkinton, 232, 297, 301,365. 

Uxbridge, 264 

Verdon, Pedigree, 173. 

Vere, Robert de, 227^ 287. 

Verney, 262-3-4. 

Vernon, Richard de, 216. 

Victoria, Queen, and Prince Albert, 347. 
Village, The, 124. 

Visit Book, 332. 

Vyse, General, 308. 


Waldegrave, 270,287. 

Wales, The Prince of, 54, 306. 
Waller, Edmuud, 262-4, 
Walker, George, 323. 

Walton, Isaac, 300, 301. 
Walpole, Horace, 254, 

Wakes, 148. 

Warmingham, 3, 

Warrington, 73. 

Weaver, The, 123, 343. 

Webb, 4, 5, 

Weddings, 135. 

Weiss, 64—5. 

Wellington, Duke of, 79. 
Welsh, The, 4, 5, 

Werburgh, St„ 5, 7, 

West, 56. 












INDEX. 


Westminster School, 51, 57, 80, 221, 302. 

-Plays, 52, 

-Election, 306, 

-, Marquis of, 92. 

West Indies, 78. 

Weston, 203. 

Wever, Thomas de, 18, 

Whigs, 54, 304, 

Whig and Tory, 245, 304. 

White, Henry Kirke, 119,127. 

White’s Selborne, 151. 

White Lion Inn, 105, 127, 

Whitby, Mr., 129. 

Whisson, Rev .S., 55. 

Whitney, 275. 

Whittaker, S., 145. 

Wichnor, 301, 336. 

Wicksted, 175, 191, 

Widows and Orphans of the Clergy, 286. 
Wilbraham, 188, 365, 

Wild-Flowers, 124, 

William the Conqueror, 3, 39, 

William and Mary, 281, 283. 

Willis, Browne, 223. 

Wilson, 20, 


Winby, Captain, 346. 

Windsor, 279. 

Winwick, 33, 

Wistaston Hall, 164. 

Wood, Lord Chief Justice, 166, 

-, George, 167, 

-Pedigree, 167, 357. 

-, Antony a, 273. 

-, S. and M., 156. 

-, Bishop, 357, 

Woodchurch, 8, 
Wolstenholme, 287. 

Wortley, 287. 

Wraxall, 304, 306, 344. 
Wrexham, 320, 322. 

Wright, Sir H, 270, 287. 
Wrightington Park, 88, 89. 
Wulvarn, The, 124, 
Wybunbury, 3, 

Yardley, Robert, 44. 

Yarrell, W„ 152, 

Yelverton, Sir H., 225. 

Yonge, Walter, 225,229. 

York, Duke of, 275-7, 281, 


o 


DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE PLATES. 


Barthomley Village, from the Rectory Gate,. 

• • • to face 

title. 

Barthomley Church, (the Chancel recently restored,) ... 

.j page 

20. 

Barthomley Village and Church, ... ••• 

••• ••• j) 

125. 

Barthomley Rectory, or Hall,. 

••• ••• 

126. 

Morris Dancers, from Betley-Hall Window,. 

••• ••• 99 

193. 

Crewe-Hall, in the time of Sir Ranulphe Crewe, Kt.,... 

••• ••• 99 

325. 

Crewe-Hall, West view,. .. 

••• ••• 99 

328. 
















jSubsaitwrs’ U mites. 

-- 

Earl of Ashburnham, Ashbumham Place. 

S. Acton, Esq., Hatherton House, near Nantwick. 

C. B. Adderley, Esq., M.P., Hams Hall, Coleshill. 

Mrs. R. Adderley, Barlaston Hall, Staffordshire. 

Henry Akroyd, Esq., Doddington Park, Nantwich. 

Henry Alderson, Esq., Warrington. 

W. Allen, Esq., Lichfield .. 

John Aston, Esq., Manor House, Ashley, Market Drayton. 

W. Baker, Esq., Highfields, Nantwich. 

Mrs. Thomas Blackburne, Spring Hill, Boughton, Chester. 

Dean of Bangor, Bangor... 

Henry Bayley, Esq., Stapeley. 

Miss Emma Bayley, Ditto. 

Mr. Beech, Peel House, Audley. 

Mrs. Bennion, Barthomley. 

Robt. Bickersteth, Esq., 2, Bodney Street, Liverpool. 

J. J. Blackburne, Esq., Hale, Warrington. 

Thomas Booth, Esq., Twemlow Hall, Holmes Chapel. 

Mr. John Booth, The Cross, Audley. .. 

James Boote, Esq., Weston Hall, Nantwich, 

T. L. Boote, Esq., Corbrook, near Audlem. 

S. Bradshaw, Esq., Basford Hall, Leek. 

Mr. Joseph Bratherton, Builder, Willaston, near Nantwich. 

Rev. T. Brooke, Wistaston Rectory, Nantwich... 

C. Stuart Brooke, Esq., Wistaston, Ditto. 

Rev. Delves Broughton, Broughton Hall, Market Drayton. 

Rev. A. Buchanan, Hales,.. 

Edm. Buckley, Esq., Ardwick, Manchester. 

Lord Crewe, Crewe Hall,.. 

Crewe Mechanics Institution. 

Sir J. Harpur Crewe, Bart, Calke Abbey, Derby. 

Sir John N. L. Chetwode, Bart., Ansley Hall, Alherstone. 

J. Stamford Caldwell, Esq., Linley Wood, Staffordshire. 

Mr. A. Campbell, Keele. .. 

Mr, John Capper, Audlem. 

William Carr, Esq, Bowden, 

The Chester Architectural Archaeological Historic Society. 
Smith Child, Esq., M.P., Stallington Hall. 

John Clare, Esq., Grappenhall, Warrington. 

Venerable Archdeacon Clive. 

Captain Clayton, Harbledown, Canterbury. 

Miss B. Clayton, Ditto. 


2 copies. 


3 copies. 








SUBSCRIBERS NAMES. 


2 copies 


chool, Nantwich. 


Rev. G. Clayton, Warmingham Rectory, Sandbach. 

Rev. H. Kerr Colborne, Bellaport, Market Drayton. 

Rev. Sir E. V. Colt, Bart., Hill Vicarage, Berkeley. 

Thomas Cooper, Esq., Congleton. 

R. D. Craig, Esq., 20, Old Square, Lincoln's Inn, London. 

Rev. Offley Crewe, Astbury, Congleton. 

Mr. Samuel Crewe, Stoke-upon-Trent. 

A. Cropton, Esq., Ramsgate. 

John Cruso, Esq., Leek. .. 

Duke of Devonshire, K.G., Devonshire House... 

T. R. Daintky, Esq., North Rode, Congleton. .. 

Rev. J. W. Daltry, Madeley Vicarage. 

William Davenport, Esq., Maer Hall, Newcastle-under-Lyme, 

C. Davenport, Esq., Tunstall. 

Mrs. Dawkins, Over Norton, Chipping Norton. .. 

Frederick S. Day, F.R.G.S., Head-Master of the Grammar 
James Dearden, Esq., Rochdale. 

John Downes, Esq., Nantwich. 

Rev. E. Duncombe, Barthomley, .. .. • • ..3 copies 

C. Dutton, Esq., Nicholas Street, Chester. 

Mr. Eardley, Bearstone. .. 

Rev. E. J. Edwards, Trentham. 

James Edwards, Esq., The Cloughs, Newcastle... 

Mr. S. Edwards, Newcastle. 

Mr. George Edwards, Hough, near Nantwich... 

George Thos. Ellison, Esq., Lincolns Inn Fields. 

Miss Fairbanks, Codsall, Wolverhampton. 

John Feilden, Esq., Mollington Hall, Chester. .. 

Thos. Firmstone, Esq., Doddlespool Hall, Betley. 

Rev. James Folliott, Stapeley House, Nantwich. 

Geo. Ford, Esq., Barlaslon, near Stone. 

Mr. William Fowles, Nantwich. 

Thomas Fry, Esq., Liverpool. 

Rt. Hon. Lord R. Grosvenor, M.P., Park-Street, Grosvcnor-Squarc., 

Viscountess Galway. 

Mr. John Gibson, Barthomley. 

T. W. GiffArd, Esq., Chillington Hall. 

Mr. Philip Goodall, Seabridge, Newcastle. 

Mr. Goodfellow, Hall-o-Wood, Newcastle. 

Mr. L. Greatbatch, 15, High-Street, Oxford. .. 

Gilbert Greenall, Esq., M.P., Walton Hall, Warrington.. 

Rev. R. Greenall, Streiton, Warrington. 

Capt. Greville, R.N., C.B., 1, Eaton Place, Westminster... 

Brooke Gkeville, Esq., 101, Sue Neuve des PetUs Clumps, Pans, 

T. N. G. Gurney, Esq., FurnivaVs Inn. 

Z 1 



subscribers’ names. 


&t. Hon. Sir B. Hall, M.P., 9, Great Stanhope-Street, May Fair. 
Viscount Hill, Hawkstone, Salop. .. 

G. L. Halliday, Esq., Mount Pleasant, Newcastle, 

Mr. Joseph Hall, Warrington. 

Mr. John Halmarack, Coventry. 

Thomas Harding, Esq., Newcastle-under-Lyme. . 

R. Hargreaves, Esq., Johnston Hall, Eccleshall. 

Mr. Hargreaves, Newcastle-under-Lyme. 

Edwd. Hawkins, Esq., F.R.S., British Museum, London. .. 

Rev. J. Hawksworth, Woore Parsonage. 

Rowland Heathcote, Esq., Hadjield, Yorkshire. 

Mr. Edwin Hill, Newcastle. 

Mrs. Hill, 



Miss Hill 


Gustavus Hill, Esq. 

Thomas Hughes, Esq., Paradise-Row, Chester. .. 

Mrs. Humberston, Newton Hall, Chester. 

William Jackson, Esq., M.P., Manor House, Birkenhead,.. 

Rev. T. Evan Jones, Barnard Castle, Durham. .. 

T. W. Jones, Esq., Nantwich. 

Mr. Edward W. Jones, Ditto. 

H. Kennedy, Esq., Bangor, North Wales. 

Mr. Kent, Penkhull. 

Marquis of Lansdowne, K.G., Lansdowne House. 

The Lord Bishop of Lichfield, The Castle, Eccleshall. .. 

Mr. Latham, Barthomley. .. .. .. .. 

C. B. Lawton, Esq., Lawton Hall, 

Mr. Charles Laxton, Special High Constable, Nantwich. .. 

Rev. Peter Legh, High Mill House, Bowness... 

G. Cornwall Legh, Esq., M.P., 4, Little St. James Street, London. 
Fredk. C. Lees, Esq., Solicitor, Burslem, Staffordshire. .< 

Mr. W. U. Lester, Stoke-upon-Trent. 

Mr. R. Litchfield, Newcastle-under-Lyme. .. 

Thos. Llewellyn, Esq., Chell House, Tunstall... 

Thos. Phil. Lowe, Esq., Nantwich. .. 

Thos. Lyon, Esq., Appleton Hall, Warrington. .. .. 

Honourable Mrs. Milnes, Brook-Street, Grosvenor-Square. 

R. Monckton Milnes, Esq., M.P., Brook Street, Grosvenor-Square. 
Miss Amicia Milnes, Brook-Street, Grosvenor-Square. 

Miss Monckton, Somerford Hall, Penkridge. 

W. Machin, Esq., Audlem, Nantwich... .. 

Rev. C. H. Mainwaring, Whitmore Rectory, Newcastle, Staffordshire 
Townshend Mainwaring, Esq., Galltfaenan, Denbigh. 

C. K. Mainwaring, Esq., Oteley Park, Ellesmere. 

E. H. Martin, Esq., Henhull Cottage, Nantwich. .. 


subscribers’ names. 


John Mather, Esq., 58, Mount Pleasant, Liverpool. .. .. 

Joseph Mayer, Esq., F.S.A., Liverpool, .. .. ..2 copies, 

Wm. S. Meeke, Esq., Tarporley. 

Mr. H. S. Miller, Winton Square, Stoke-upon-Trent. 

Herbert Minton, Esq., Hartshill, Stoke-upon-Trent. 

J. D. Mort, Esq., Newcastle. 

Mrs. Moss, The Elrris, Didsbury. 

Mr. John Napper, Edgbaston, Birmingham. 

James Nicholson, Esq., Thelwall Hall, Warrington. 

W. C. Norcop, Esq., Betton Hall, Market Drayton. 

F. H. Northen, Esq. M.D., The Lea, Eccleshall. 

The Rev. the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford, Worcester College. 

George Ormerod, Esq., Sedbury Park, Chepstow. 

Mr. Oulton, Cfewe. 


J. Wilson Patten, Esq., M.P., Bank Hall, Warrington. .. 
R. Townley Parker, Esq., Guerdon Hall, Preston. 

Mr. John Parton, Cliorlton, near Nantwich. 

Mr. Philip Pedley, Crewe. 

Joseph Perrin, Esq., Bewsey Hall, Warrington. 

Thos. Podmore, Esq., Green Bank, Lawton. 

Rev. H. Price, Ash, Whitchurch, Salop. 

Horning Rasbotham, Esq., Llyndyr, Wrexham,.. 

Joseph Raw, Esq., Furnivals Inn. 

J. Offley Crewe Read, Esq., Wern, Nortliop, Flintshire... 
John Redfern, Esq., Betley. .. 

Rev. Chas. Smith Royds, Haughton Rectory, near Stafford. 
Rev. R. B. Robinson, The Parsonage, Lytham. .. 

Rev. E. Royds, Brereton Rectory. 

Duke of Sutherland, K.G., Stafford House. .. 

Thomas Salt, Esq., Weeping Cross, Stafford, .. 

William Salt, Esq., Lombard-Street, London, .. 

William Salt, Esq., Audley. .« 

W. Saxton, Esq., Market Drayton. .. 

Daniel Scott, Esq., Chester. 

John Sharp, Esq., Warrington. 

Captain Simmons, Ramsgate. 

R. Slaney, Esq., Newcastle-under-Lyme. 

Mrs. R. Smith, Gloucester Terrace, Hyde Park, London. .. 
Mrs. James Smith, Keele... 

Rev. John Sneyd, Ashcombe Park, near Leek, Staffordshire, 
F. Stanier, Esq., Silverdale. 

Mrs. Somes, 5, Westbourne Terrace, .. 

Rev. H. Sutcliffe, Keele Parsonage.. 

James Swinnerton, Esq., Macclesfield. 


.. 2 copies 


2 copies 
.. 2 copies 


,. 2 copies 


subscribers’ names. 


Lord de Tabley, Talley House, Knutsford. 

Thomas Tapling, Esq., Mount Pleasant, Lower Norwood , Surrey. .. 
Mr. R. Thornhill, Barthomley. 

Mrs. S. Thornley, Clarence-Street, Liverpool. .. 

George Tollet, Esq., Betley Hall , .. 

Miss Tollet, Betley Hall.. 

Wilbraham Tollemache, Esq., JDorfold Hall, Nantwich , .. 

Charles Trubshaw, Esq., The Holleis, Stafford. 

Thomas Turner, Esq., Nantwich. 

John Twemlow, Esq., Hatherton, near Nantwich. 

Thomas Twemlow, Esq., Peatswood, Market Drayton. 

Francis Twemlow, Esq., Betley Court. 

Thos. H. Underwood, Esq., Gilder Brook, Eccles. 


Viscount St. Vincent, Meaford, Stone. 

Mrs. Vevers, 15b, Everton Road, Longsight, Manchester. .. 
Charles J. Vyner, Esq., Newtown Cottage, Nantwich. 
Major Howard Vyse, Cavalry Barracks, Windsor. 


Marquis of Westminster, Eaton Hall, Chester. 

Earl of Wilton, Heaton Park, Manchester, 

J. A. Warre, Esq., 54, Lowndes-Square , London. 

Vade Walpole, Esq,, 38, Upper Brook-Street, Grosvenor-Square. 
R, E. E. Warburton, Esq., Arley Hall, Northwich. 

Mr. Alderman Warrington, Congleton. 

Mr. George Whittaker, Bank Farm, Crewe. .. 

Mr. Whittaker, Barthomley. 

Charles Wicksted, Esq., Shakenhurst, Bewdley. 

W. Williams, Esq., Stapeley, near Nantwich. .. 

Rev. L. J. Wilson, Weston Parsonage, Nantwich. 

John E. Wilson, Esq., The Grove, Market Drayton. 

E. Wilson, Esq., M.D., Newcastle. 

John H. Williamson, Esq., Ramsdell Hall, Lawton, Cheshire. 
Capt. Winby, Crewe. 

I. Moreton Wood, Esq., Newton, Middlewich. .. 

Mrs. Wood, Wednesbury, Staffordshire. .. 

Edw. Wood, Esq., Port Hill, Burslem, 

Wedg Wood, Esq., Burslem. 

N. P. Wood, Esq., Bignal End, Audley, 

Mrs. Wood, Brownliills, Staffordshire. 

J. Woolf, Esq., Haslington Hall, near Crewe. .. 

Mr. Henry Worsey, Nantwich. 


• • 


F. CREWE, PRINTER, NEWCASTLE. 



2 copies. 
2 copies. 


2 copies. 


2 copies. 
2 copies. 




ADDITIONAL SUBSCRIBERS. 


Mrs. John Hill, TVistaston Manor House, Nantwich, 

Mr. George Siddall, Morton, Derbyshire, .. .. .. 

Mr. William Bott, Nantwich, 

W. C. Norcop, Esq., Belton Hall, Market Drayton, .. ..2 copies. 

Rev. W. Hutchinson, for Newcastle Book Society, 

Mr. John Hewitt, Betley .. 


ERRATA. 


Page 34, line 28—for “ distinguished” read “ distinguish .” 

Page 35, line 12—for “ Attorniyes” read “ Attorneys .” 

Page 38, lines 33, 34—) 

n on r i o o rinsert “ R ” after “A” 

Page 39, lines 1. 2, 3,— j 


Page 93, line 20—for “became,” read “become.” 

Page 107, last line—for “ married,” read “ musical.” 

Page 129, line 17—dele “and.” 

Page 138, line 22—after “class,” insert “or at least.” 

Page 192, line 8—dele “manuscript.” 

Page 218, line 13—for “proceeds to give” read “gives.” 

Page 219, line 6—for “26-51,” read “25-26 1 Henry III.” 
Page 234, lines 25-26—for “season” read “session.” 

Page 237, line 25—for “straightened” read “straitened.” 

Page 266, line 13—for “Charles the Second home” read “ home 
Charles the Second.” 

Page 274, line 10—for “Charles” read “he” 

Page 355, lines 7, and 13—for “prosecuted” read “presented.” 
Page 360, line 30—for “ of,” read “ at.” 


There is an omission in the Table of Contents of 
LETTER XXI. 

CREWE HALL AND ITS GROUNDS—THE PAST AND PRESENT 

STATE.-RESTORATION OP CREWE HALL, AND DESCRIPTION OF 

THE INTERIOR.-MARRIAGE OF THE HONOURABLE MISS ANNA- 

BELLA CREWE.-LOUIS NAPOLEON A VISITOR AT CREV T E HALL. 

THE DAIRY AT CREW T E GREEN.—SCHOOL HOUSE, LICENSED FOR 

PUBLIC WORSHIP.-REV. A. A. BROWNE. THE RAILWAY STATION 

AND HOTEL.-THE NEW TOWN OF CREWE. 
























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